1001 Jacobian Nights
by Amanda Wilder
Summary: First Sam/Leah, then Bella/Jake. An unusual tale of love and healing written with a nod towards Anais Nin. Bella is diagnosed with an illness resulting from her relationship with Edward, and Jacob is chosen to heal her. Summary within.
1. 1001 Jacobian Nights Prologue Part 1

**1001 Jacobian Nights**

**by Amanda Wilder**

**All characters belong to Stephanie Meyer**

**Original situations and dialogue property of the author; **

**no copyright infringement intended.**

**AN: AU, OOC, Mature themes**

**Introduction:**

This story does not follow canon, and takes liberties with circumstances and timelines of the original. While this is a Jacob/Bella and Sam/Leah-based werewolf fic, there is no imprinting, no werewolf immortality, and no Emily. Sam and Leah are quite a bit older than Jacob and Bella. The Cullens are still the Cullens, but Edward has very limited ability to discern his bloodlust from the romantic intentions he holds for Bella.

In real life and in fiction, I'm no fan of battles, bloodshed, angst or tragedy. Edward leaves Bella, but this does not throw her into a great depression. There is no Victoria, no BD, and precious little in the way of terror and mayhem. If you want to know what it's like to live in the constant hell of supernaturally-induced emotional heartache and unending fear and distraction, then go reread the originals. There just isn't much of that here at 1001 Headquarters.

Here's the obligatory content warning. Everyone reading this should know that it contains very graphic and at times "taboo" sexual content, which all takes place between loving couples who have the best intentions toward each other. If the words "cock" or "nipple" offend you, time to stop reading right here. Not in the mood for something overtly sexual? That's fine too, you can come back when you are.

The plot of 1001 Jacobian Nights revolves around sexual healing and sexual awakening within committed relationships, and is at times quite adventurous. That being said, if you find yourself reading a chapter that does not appeal to you, just skip on over to the next one. More than likely you will find plenty to interest you, and it's not necessary to read every chapter in order to enjoy the story.

Extra-special thanks to aowalison, little furry cannibals, BellaFlan and Pavarti for their tremendous support and suggestions to make this fic fly smoothly. Check out their work and drop them a line of thanks!

...And....on with the show!

1001 Jacobian Nights -- Prologue -- Sam & Leah

Pain.

Sam felt it the instant the patrol meeting started. The feeling crept over him, an ache that began in his loins and slowly filtered out in glowing tendrils throughout his massive frame.

His eyes roamed the group in front of him, face an impassive mask against the growing discomfort. Each time another wolf phased, Sam found himself reordering the pack according to seniority, strength, personality. With Leah the newest wolf to phase, and the only female, the pack had shuddered internally, uncertain, as the order within the group buckled and reformed. It was squarely on Sam's broad shoulders to bring the assembled wolves back to cohesion.

Paul and Jared dropped their gazes respectfully as he paused on each of their faces to wolfmark them, asserting his dominance as they expected him to, and, in fact, welcomed. Leah sat to the side of the burly pair, her newly-muscled physique apparent in the light of the fire, her head bowed, eyes closed. Sam's gaze took her in, his instincts alight with strategies and pack alignments, as he brought the hierarchy of the pack into focus in his mind.

The pain in his groin welled as his nostrils flared, taking in the wolfscents of the others, now mixed with Leah's, into account. Whatever he would decide at this moment, whatever commands he might issue, would be to the pack's greatest benefit. This was his gift to them as Alpha, an instinctual directive he bestowed upon each of them to clarify their mutual purposes and reasons for being. It was the force that helped them both as a group and individually, the heart of what kept the monstrosity of their dual nature bearable, even a thing of beauty.

And Leah's wolfscent, her posture, her failure to make eye contact and then relinquish it to him, did not fit the now familiar pattern that Paul and Jared had followed after they had first phased. Sam focused on her being, her essence, to better divine her purpose within the group. He felt his cock stiffen in his heavy denim shorts, and exhaled with thinly-veiled irritation.

Paul had naturally fallen into the packset as Beta, the second in command to Sam, a fierce fighter of whom he was proud. Jared, always the clever one in human form, had keen senses and could be relied upon as a strong back-up partner and tracker. Paul and Jared had been confident of Sam's appraisal of their abilities, and respected each others' strengths and value to the pack as a result. There had been no disagreements or in-fighting, all as it should be.

The Quileute community of La Push had watched in amazement as Sam's influence had transformed those under his tutelage. Paul, once angry and impetuous, now a leader in his own right, sharing his power-rack and weights with the youths around the reservation who admired him. Jared, once bored and insolent to his teachers at the reservation school, now quietly did his work, turned it in early, leaving time for him to help less-gifted others amongst his classmates. And Sam, once a charismatic instigator with too much time on his hands, now capably held the reins of the tribe's safety, and its future.

Despite her gender, Leah was now part of Sam's pack, and it was essential that her wolfself be melded with the group's structure for it to function properly. If he could only concentrate, the matter would be simple, over and done with, just as it had been with the other two. He continued to stare at her through the flames, willing the answer to come to him. And at that moment, nothing was clear.

His growing arousal was making that impossible.

Doubtless, their previously-existing relationship had something to do with this. They had been lovers on and off for the last two years, an arrangement that had seemed to suit them both. For Leah, the decision to date Sam had been borne of frustration. She was tired of fending off the pawing of would-be suitors and the clumsy attempts they had made to woo her. Sam had been a powerful specimen even before he had phased, and although romance had barely figured into their pairing, it had had the desired effect.

Leah was free to drift from Sam's side as the mood carried her, always returning when her alternative selections become too possessive or controlling. She had seen how other girls on the reservation had succumbed to awkward pregnancies, early marriages, and shattered futures with men who could not be bothered to care for them.

Accordingly, her couplings with Sam had been carefully managed and orchestrated. She never allowed him to see her fully unclothed. Always conscious of where her cycle was, she made it plain to him that he was to wait to penetrate her until the spermicidal pellets she unceremoniously shoved inside herself had taken effect. And condoms. Always condoms, even for oral sex.

Sam had observed her guarded behavior towards him, seeing through her actions as they were motivated by fear. For this, he felt compassion and protectiveness towards her. The outside world regarded them as a well-matched pair, but on the interior of this relationship of mutual convenience, neither of them could afford to feel much affection or love towards one another. Leah trusted neither him nor herself to have such feelings, and Sam, realizing this, wisely did not allow himself to feel anything more in return.

Nature, as is her way, finally intervened. Within six months of each other, they had both phased into werewolves, and were now no longer purely human. The tribe that had birthed them both needed their guardianship. The charming stories of wolf protectors told by the fireside by elders of the tribe had become their manifest destiny. Of necessity, the nature of their relationship would change as well.

At the firecircle, Sam finally felt, rather than saw, his designation for Leah, whose body had begun to tremble under his unwavering stare.

"Leah. Pack subordinate," he ground out, as a powerful tide of inner knowing washed over him, carrying him to a place he had never explored as their leader. The sensation came from every cell of his body, forming words that sounded in his wolfmind.

At Sam's pronouncement, Leah raised her eyes to his, bright with panic. His words had sent a taut ribbon of connection between her body and those of the other wolves. Paul and Jared snapped their heads in unison towards her, surprise, lust and excitement welling in their eyes.

"_..._and_...All Mine."_

His Alpha command rang in the ears and hearts of his packwolves. Leah felt the ribbons connecting Paul and Jared to her body sever, leaving only a wide and powerful tether from her body to Sam's. Her heightened senses blazed with a strength and rightness that came as a profound inner revelation. She returned Sam's gaze calmly and openly, then gracefully bowed her head to him in acceptance.

* * *

That night after the firecircle, as Sam ushered her back to his house deep in the woods, Leah had never felt more free to express herself as a woman in love. They had laughed and touched each other more that night than the sum of their previous relationship put together. Both of them burned with the same fever, and yet their extraordinarily amplified senses made going beyond caresses, nuzzling and deep kissing seem overwhelming.

Sam had spent over an hour simply smelling her from head to foot, pressing his face against her hair, her neck, the space between her breasts and thighs, and finally the backs of her knees and the bottoms of her feet, all the while murmuring his appreciation and adoration. He seemed to breathe in her essence and energy as he did so, with each exhale filling the places he touched with his intention to possess her. By the time he had finished to gather her in his arms, both still fully clothed, Leah had felt so completely united with him in both human spirit and wolf, that all she could do was press herself against him, making soft, unintelligible sounds.

When Sam had kissed her deeply then, her eyes soft and tongue warm and welcoming against his, he felt he was penetrating her more deeply and intimately than the scores of times he had actually entered her and moved his cock inside her sex. Everywhere her body met his, her arms around his neck, the curves of her breasts against his chest, her legs, curled smoothly in his lap, every brush of skin, every breath, made him feel more a man than he had ever imagined possible. To say that he felt simultaneously powerful and supremely honored to hold her so tenderly would not have been an exaggeration.

She, who had been so unyielding towards him, now yielded. He felt the gap between them dissolve, and from that moment forward knew he could finally express his love for her, which until this point in time had remained unspoken.

For her part, she felt, for the first time in her life, divinely safe. All the parts of her body that had warred and remained divided from her heart and mind now merged in glorious harmony. Her soul had opened to his immensity. Of their own accord, her pelvis began to undulate against him, and an orgasm borne of pure emotion traveled through her body, leaving her sobbing against his neck with happiness.

He had held her firmly, lips pressed to her forehead, as she had fainted in his arms.

* * *

The next morning, she had awoken to the sensation of his fingers slowly tracing the length of her spine.

Over breakfast, he asked her to move into the house with him, and when she readily agreed, he had risen and tapped a white mason-jar on the kitchen counter, the kind in which one might find flour.

"This is for you," he said. "And our home... It may need a woman's touch." He had rolled his eyes as he said this, but then smiled broadly and added, "As do I, Lee-lee."

He had left her then, after a lingering kiss, to work and attend to council business. She had gasped when she opened the jar, finding a thick roll of cash and a note to have a look in the attic for boxes his mother had left him, household items a lonely bachelor would find superfluous.

To Leah, the boxes were a treasure trove of domesticity she hadn't even known she had wanted, until now. The solution to her La Push dilemma had not so much been to leave its borders, but to remain in her ancestral home and thrive, on terms that she found enjoyable. The day was spent happy daze of grocery shopping and unpacking the kitchenwares, linens and curtains Sam's mother had thoughtfully purchased him when he acquired the place, all still in their original packaging and covered with a fine layer of dust.

She would be sure to thank Sarah when next she saw her.

That night, Sam arrived home early in the evening to a home-cooked meal and a vibrant Leah. Werewolf stamina and speed had apparently served her well all day, and the house looked...finished, to him. Complete. He had twirled her around the living room, and they had resumed their playfully enraptured courting from the night before.

After some time stroking and kissing her on the couch, he centered his enticing lover on his lap, and with some ceremony slid her sun-dress down around her waist, exposing her breasts. Full and ripe as melons, they jutted out from her slim waist, and he worshiped them with his hands and mouth as Leah writhed against him, bare underneath the soft fabric and straddling his thighs. The hard ridge of his erection teased her from inside his pants, and unheedingly she left a moist trail along the hard protrusion as her body began to glow from his attentions.

All at once, his tender attitude grew almost stern, and he eased her off his lap onto the floor. Kneeling on the carpet between his knees, Leah watched his eyes carefully as they morphed back and forth from firm and commanding to lustful, nearly predatory.

Leah felt her body and soul succumb to the welcome spell of his dominant essence.

Her gaze shifted to his waist, where his strong hands unbuckled the leather belt around his jeans, sliding the worn zipper down to expose his thick and rigid cock. She felt immeasurably drawn to it, her body aching to experience its contours. It seemed to Leah that not only had his muscles doubled in size since his transformation, but apparently everything else had as well.

_Closer, oh closer...._

Her eyes sought his, waiting for direction. He smiled, his gaze never losing its predatory gleam, and reached forward to guide her head to his lap.

Leah had never been this close to Sam's cock without the latex sheath of a condom covering it, and the scent of his bare skin, free from the gaseous smell of rubber and laced with the perfume of wolfish pheromones, filled her lungs with intoxication. Gone were the fear and humiliation she had once associated with a man's bare and unprotected penis, and in its place grew a stunned admiration for its beauty, its evidence of Sam's fervent desire for her.

After years of denying him such proximity and freshly freed from her insecurities, Leah found she now wanted to offer her lover genuine, very personal pleasure, unencumbered by barriers and limits.

His heavy fingers combed her hair, holding it back and out of her face, as he pressed her cheek against his cock's hot pulse. Up and down against the burning skin of his shaft, turning her head this way and that, he directed her face against his hardened length until Leah was covered with his scent. A fine line of moisture trailed down her cheek.

Leah was softly panting, her hands gripping the smooth, muscled curves of his flanks, the sensations more intimate than any she had ever known. Her dress had slipped below her hips, and she was exquisitely aware that there was very little now between his masculinity and her nakedness.

When at last he gently tilted her head upwards to kiss him, her mouth was so open and hungry, so warm and needy to feel his arousal against her lips that she had moaned aloud and boldly suckled his tongue, silently begging him to allow her to worship him in return.

Slowly and deliberately, he eased her head back down to his hips, deliberately holding her face barely an inch from his engorged cockhead. Leah could see the precum welling there, a liquid river running from the pulsing tip, white flecks of his seed lacing the opening. He seemed to be... offering himself... and waiting for her... Without hesitation, Leah reached out her tongue, and gave the swollen glans a long, thorough caress, its salty musk filling her mouth. Sam groaned in pleasured surprise and satisfaction, and gently guided her head downwards, impaling her.

The exquisitely unfamiliar sensation of his bare cockskin against her lips and tongue caused a place deep within Leah's sex to clench and trickle with heat. She rounded her lips and engulfed his throbbing glans, teasing more moisture from it and allowing her own to join his. Her fingers deftly entwined the lower length of his shaft, spreading the dripping fluids as his palms pressed at her temples, steadily moving her tightly rounded lips up and down along the exposed surface of his member.

In such intimate contact with his manhood, Leah discerned that there were special, secret places along Sam's pulsating length that brought him gorgeous surges of intense pleasure. Lavishing these areas repeatedly with her tongue, she could feel every movement vividly and acutely along her own swollen sex, as though Sam was simultaneously pleasuring her there himself. Her tongue, always long and well-formed as a human, had become mysteriously more supple with her change, and slid with serpentine grace almost entirely around Sam's thick shaft as she inflamed them both.

Deep within their shared ecstatic delirium, Sam had offered her a series of rumbling groans in acknowledgement of her new gifts, his hands twitching along her scalp. Her tongue, now hyper-sensitized to each and every sensitive place along his cock, continued to swirl and twist against its bulging veins, savoring and swallowing the liquid proof of his arousal as it continued to flow unchecked against the back of her throat. It was the first time she had surrendered her mouth to taste him, and in so doing allowed his Alpha possession of her as his chosen mate to take even firmer hold.

The heat consumed her. Leah's eyes began to glaze over, gripped in the pleasure that radiated out from his body, carrying her along with the vibrations of his deep, throaty cries. She continued to suck and lathe him with her mouth, profoundly aroused and entranced.

Her lover's grip became tighter and rougher, pulling her hair and pressing against the back of her head with greater force. His shaft pushed heavily deep inside her mouth, and in her trance-like state, Leah simply widened her jaws to him, feeling the rigid length of his penis slip easily down the flexing sphincter of her throat. Another uniquely werewolf talent revealed, she thought faintly, overwhelmed by the rapture of feeling Sam's cock swell, thrust and impale her throat, and through their bond, her aching sex.

Sam was rigid inside her, lungs roaring now, one hand stroking the underside of her neck, feeling his cock slide in and out of her throat through her soft skin. The sensation of pleasure she had wrought in him was beyond imagining; the flood of power that surged through him in watching the entirety of his slick erection disappear past Leah's swollen lips -- and easily into her welcoming throat -- was almost too excruciating to bear.

"_Lee-lee, touch yourself," _he boomed.

Her Alpha wolf's command ran through her body like wildfire, and Leah's hands flew to her sex, already burning and rippling with a dozen near-orgasms under her fingers. Sam pulled himself out of her mouth just long enough for her to draw an impassioned breath, sob his name, and inhale again before his cock plunged inside her once more.

With a few strong strokes of her engorged clitoris, Leah doubled over in ecstasy, throwing her head forward and engulfing Sam's cock as it exploded molten ejaculate down her throat. The power of his climax thundered through her sex as though every inch of him was deeply thrust inside her walls, each pulse raking her womb with its force.

Filled and utterly possessed, she consumed all of him, including the last searing jets of semen he shot inside her mouth as he slid out of her body, swallowing every mouthful of his gift.

Moments passed. The room was quiet except for Sam's labored breathing, his shaking hands caressing her face.

"_My mate,"_ he whispered, again and again. _My mate..._

Pleasantly subdued and drifting, Leah's mind reflected upon her intimacies with Sam in the past, how afraid she had been to touch him, or allow him any closer than was absolutely necessary to assuage her guilt for using him as a shield from the world of men. With their newly-formed bond, borne of instinct and caring that transcended mere physical boundaries, she embraced his strength as it emanated from his core, encompassing her whole heart, and holding her closer than his powerful arms ever could.

Accepting his love as it cascaded over her, she gazed at her lover with unmasked adoration, her heart at the center of an awakening blossom of tender and unbridled love for him, new and unabashedly feminine; her own.

Glassy-eyed, he smiled deeply, his soulful eyes locking onto hers. With Leah curled at his feet, unguarded surrender shining up at him from her loving, glowing face, he felt more than mortal, more than wolf.

Sam Uley felt like a god.

Taking a deep, measured breath, he gathered her to him, savoring her nudity, her dress a forgotten pool on the floor.

"I love you, Lee-lee," he said, brushing kisses against her cheeks, her eyelids, the rounded lips of her softly-parted mouth. His heart felt light, and bold. This beautiful woman, who had long claimed his essence and now offered hers in return, was his heart's home.

**So yeah, my first fic. Did you like it? Post a review, tell me who your favorite wolf is, besides Jake.**


	2. 1001 Jacobian Nights Prologue Part 2

**1001 Jacobian Nights**

**by Amanda Wilder**

**All characters belong to Stephanie Meyer**

**Original situations and dialogue property of the author; no copyright infringement intended.**

**AU, OOC, Mature themes**

**A/N: Out in the wild, wolves nearly always pair monogamously for life. During mating, the male wolf's member develops a knot at the base, which the female clamps down on to prevent early exit -- the pair are "tied" together for 30 minutes -- ensuring the next generation of wolves. This does not appear to be painful, as with the barbs on cats, and the male wolf ejaculates three times during coitus.**

**A recap: No Emily in this story, no imprinting, and Bella and Jacob are quite a bit younger than Sam and Leah.**

**Extra special howls out to my "Alphas": aowalison, little furry cannibals, BellaFlan and Pavarti. Visit my profile for links to their funny, sexy fics!**

**1001 Jacobian Nights -- Prologue, Part II, Sam & Leah **

Pain.

Leah had awoken to the tiny snarls of cramping in her left ovary. The sensation would likely come and go throughout the day, but was nothing more than a slight distraction, really. Her body sweltered with the newly acquired wolf-strength and heat her genes had given her, and putting on clothes had become nuisance, between perspiration and the inevitable dressing and redressing required by the act of phasing.

Her body had other reasons to be warm. Just two days had passed since Sam's pronouncement at the firecircle, and their prior relationship, truncated as it had been by Sam's transformation and subsequent duties to the growing pack, had begun anew, with several notable changes.

In the past, he had simply waited for her to come to him, stand by his side at group gatherings, and approach him for intimacy on her own time, according to her monthly rhythm and mood.

After Sam's spectacular declaration to her at the meeting, however, he had swiftly strode to her side, bodily lifted her, and carried her back to his seat, placing her directly next to him on the log by the fire. His right hand, searing with desire and affection, rested on her knee, then on her low back, then on her shoulder, then returned again to rest on her thigh for the remainder of the meeting, as he launched into a passionate and inspired speech, exhorting Paul and Jared to prepare themselves to find and bond with their future mates.

He spoke of the requirement that a wolf must feel love, lust and protectiveness in equal measure towards the women they paired with. He reminded them that in their dealings with others as humans, they would be held to the same commitments, and to instruct, by good example, the other boys on the reservation. He also reminded them that the fruit of their unions would result in the next generation of wolves.

At each pause in Sam's commentary, the young werewolves had both given Leah looks that bespoke respect and reverence. In an instant -- due entirely to Sam -- they had morphed from individuals to be feared and avoided, to allies who could be counted on to protect her safety and virtue. She would be subordinate to them in the field -- must obey their commands as though they had been issued by Sam, in his absence -- but she was also now, officially and irrevocably, the Alpha female, partner to the Alpha male.

And that knowledge, two days later, had unreasonably taken up residence in her pelvis, her body sending out beacons of heat that hardened her nipples and made wearing underwear nearly impossible. Her collection of thong panties had proven themselves to be inadequate to the task of stemming the flow that crept past their uselessly brief swatches of fabric, and so she had taken to going without, despite the now constant presence of moisture between her thighs.

Wiping herself at toilet had become an involved affair, the thick effluences from deep inside her requiring multiple applications of tissue.

She found that she really did not mind the inconvenience.

Slipping on a thin cotton sundress -- one of several on semi-permanent loan from Rebecca, Jacob's sister and resident reservation do-gooder -- she admired the way the dress fit her curves, landing at an appealing place on her thighs. The bottoms of her feet had naturally become quite calloused since her transformation, and there would now rarely be any need for shoes. Her usual uniform of loose-fitting sweatshirts and jeans -- her visual shield against the unwanted leers and pointed looks her beauty had afforded her in the past -- were, since that night by the fire, just a shell she had shucked in the realization of her true self.

Looking in the mirror, she liked what she saw: the makings of a sexually confident woman, one who felt comfortable in so few clothes, safe in the knowledge that wherever she went, the wolves had her back. Leah smiled at her reflection. What she saw in the glass was a unique and powerful woman, ready to open herself more fully to a man -- an equally unique and powerful man -- who she instinctively knew loved and cared for her deeply.

She rubbed at the soreness in her belly -- evidence of her impending ovulation -- quite aware that she and Sam had yet to fully consummate their new relationship.

They had spent nearly the entirety of the previous twenty-four hours apart.

Sam had gone fishing overnight with Harry, Charlie and a couple of the younger boys from the rez, Jacob and Embry. Once Charlie had learned of the tribe's transformative capabilities from Billy, he had been increasingly involved in the training and preparation of the young potentials amongst the Quileutes, hoping to carry over Sam's methods to the leaderless miscreants in Forks.

The young cubs -- as they were sometimes known -- were no older than eleven or twelve, and idolized the wolfpack without fully understanding the technicalities of phasing and packset. All Jake and Embry knew was that they had been chosen from amongst the dozen or more others who had loudly clamored to be invited, and would get to spend one glorious day with the leader of the most powerful young men in the tribe.

Sam was confident that, with advance knowledge of their impending physical changes, the cubs would adjust readily to their new lives when the time came.

He had been quite serious while going about the process of choosing the boys with Harry over the phone, but his eyes had sparkled with mirth over their shoulders at Leah, as the youngsters had pelted him with questions and attempts to garner his attention on the morning the group set out from Sam's front porch.

Leah had spent the day with her mother, packing up her personal items to transfer them to Sam's -- now their -- home. For Sue, the day had been bittersweet: her daughter was leaving their house, and the hours they had spent at the kitchen table talking late at night, after Harry had gone to bed, would now belong to Sam. This sadness was mixed the the elation that her daughter was now formally partnered with the leader of their tribe, and had committed to staying in La Push to be an important part of the community.

As a wolf protector, her daughter was already a rare breed of Quileute royalty. To be all of that, and Sam's mate besides, meant Leah would be loved and cherished for the rest of her life. Sue could look forward to the formal announcement before the tribal council, her daughter now considered an honored member. A queen.

_...and grandchildren..._

Leah spent one final night in her old home, rapt in wonderment at her good fortune to be the first woman in the tribe's considerable history to have inherited the werewolf legacy.

The following morning, it took Leah all of twenty minutes to unload her car of the heavy crates, choosing to stow them in the spare room opposite the master bedroom. In her mind's eye, she had already begun to think of it as the nursery.

She could unpack later. Sam would be hungry after a day of fishing.

Leah marveled at how easily she had slid into the role of homemaker. The afternoon with her mother had only further convinced her that the love of a good man was rare these days, particularly on the rez. Sue Clearwater was one of the most contented beings in La Push, and the envy of her friends. Leah had decided that it was high time someone brought that sort of contentment back to their tribe in style, and after more than a few loving words exchanged with her mother, she had donned the mantle and would make it her own.

She danced around the kitchen, her intrinsic desire to be reunited with Sam making it hard to concentrate. Her body vibrated with the need to be near him. From time to time, she would stop and stare into space, lightly touching herself and imagining his handsome face between her legs.

Sam arrived that evening bearing two enormous salmon, clean and filleted, and had kissed her sighing and senseless, his hands stroking her bare bottom under her dress. A white-hot ache in his balls had plagued him in the time he had been gone, and it took every ounce of reserve he had not to crush her body to his and make love to her there, amidst the pots and pans.

While the fish lay baking in the oven, he surveyed the piles of boxes in the spare room, standing behind her, his warm palms gently massaging her shoulders.

"This place could use a coat of paint," he observed, drawing her closer. His hands had barely left her body since his return from the river, and she was dying to have him inside her. He nibbled at her shoulder, finding a place he liked best and sucking deeply.

Leah gasped and moaned. Underneath the scent of fish and wild water, she could sense the hot, aromatic spike of arousal-scent his body emanated. Her body was suddenly covered with a thin sheen of perspiration.

"Yellow...? Light blue....?" There was a tremor in her voice she didn't recognize.

_This room is for .... our first child ..._

Encircling her waist from behind, his strong arms tightened, his mouth finding her earlobe from beneath the thick curtain of her hair and softly pulling at it with his lips. She was warm now, almost too warm to think, a burning trickle slowly making its way down the inside of her thigh.

"Not brown, for a study or game room...?" He smiled, inhaling sharply, savoring her scent as it wafted to his nose from between her legs.

"...Mm, brown...?...ahh...!" The fingers of one broad, searching hand had slid beneath her dress, gliding with great purpose along the moist ridge of her clitoris.

Sam chuckled behind her, his lips moving in slow tandem up and down her neck, stroking in time with the smooth brush of finger, strong and wet against her heat. He was teasing her! About the color of the room, and with the warm swirl of his touch...

Leah felt her knees weaken, sex burning with want.

"Sam....I'm... ohhh..."

He sat them down on one of the studier crates, Leah's hips splayed over his, legs split and hanging over each side of his lap. She was moaning continuously now, his hands dragging the dress from her shoulders, freeing her breasts to fondle and stretch her nipples from behind. Pulling her bared sex roughly to his waist with one arm, he tilted her forward, still massaging the pendulous orbs, brushing and twisting her aching nipples as he did so.

Leah panted with need, the thick bulge of his cock pinned between her drenched lips. Another pair of his jeans soiled, she thought fleetingly.

"Were you... thinking of another use for the spare rooms? Hmm, Lee-lee?..." Sam's voice betrayed both amusement and desire.

"We...for our...children..." He had her in such an orgasmic thrall, she could barely form words.

"_Mmmm.....Lee-lee...."_ Sam exhaled a rolling, thunderous growl at her words. He could smell her body's fertile readiness for him, and the urge to mate with her was fierce. He hoisted her legs over his shoulders and buried his face between her thighs, his long, prehensile tongue sliding over her engorged sex, then deep inside her. For a male werewolf, it was the most satisfying flavor in all the world...her scent and taste were intoxicating.

Leah sobbed and cried out, writhing in pleasure at his unexpected assault. She found herself hanging upside down, thighs clasped around his head, shoulders firmly pressed against Sam's legs. His tongue and lips surged against her sex, tongue twisting and thrusting deep inside her.

_God, what was he doing to her?! _

A wave of unbearable heat crashed through her. She screamed, clit burning in his searing mouth as a long, spasming climax ripped through her body. He gripped her bucking hips tightly to his face, silently rejoicing at her thorough surrender to his fevered onslaught, lips basking in the dripping heat of her folds.

"You please me so much, Lee-lee," Sam murmured, stroking her breasts and belly with his warm hands. Her body continued to shudder, her breath hard and fast.

"Please...Sam...let me pleasure you," she begged, her breath warm and humid against the seam of his jeans. From Leah's inverted position, head between his thighs and poised just inches from his crotch, she could plainly smell his arousal, breathing deep of the pheromones, her sexual inebriation acute.

_If only he was naked, she could extend her tongue to lick and pleasure his ballsack..._

The aroma of salmon cooking in the kitchen wafted into the room around them. Sam's stomach growled.

"Food first, insemination later..." Sam kissed her thighs.

Leah felt her innermost walls and cervix twitch with a sharp, hot pulse of agreement as her Alpha lover made clear his intentions. If anything, her tormented sex was hotter and more hungry than when they had first sat down. He lifted her high in the air as he stood, and with the ease of an acrobat, Leah planted her feet on the floor.

Sam drew her to him and kissed her deeply, sliding his tongue satisfyingly against hers, coating her with her own essence. She moaned in his arms, kissing him in return with equal need. Grasping her hand in his, he led her down the hallway to the kitchen.

Leah followed, gazing at the damp stains her sex had left on the t-shirt that stretched along his broad shoulders, quite nude.

Sam ate the meal she had prepared with pleasured murmurs of satisfaction, Leah draped on his lap. From time to time, he fed her morsels from his hand, playing with her lips as he did so. Leah accepted his gifts with a soft mouth on his fingers, needing nothing more than to be close to him.

His free hand made slow circles on her flat stomach, her sex leaving a dark, moist impression on his pantsleg.

Sam swallowed and took a long pull on his beer, then spoke with soft determination.

"I want a family with you."

Leah nodded, heart brimming, gazing at him in open adulation.

"You'll carry our children, Leah? Fully, to term?"

The fear that a woman would abort a pregnancy -- even an unplanned and inconvenient one -- ran rampant amongst the younger men of the tribe, as so many had lost their first children, unborn, in this fashion.

Leah nodded again, gently kissing his cheek as he continued to chew, savoring the meal she had prepared him.

"I want them all, Sam....as many as you'll give me..."

Years ago, her first pelvic examination had prompted the clinician to remark that she had wide hips, perfect for childbirth. At the time, Leah had started at the odd comment, but now the thought of Sam's children, swelling her belly and breasts, sent a sensual, burning quiver through her abdomen. The hard rock of his erection against her backside assured her that his feelings on the matter mirrored hers.

"Mmmmm...."

Sam's chest swelled with gratification at her response. He kissed her neck, then cheek, then the tip of her nose, before pressing his lips to hers.

"You feed me so well, Lee-lee."

They continued to kiss and touch as he finished his meal, the warm glow of shared trust in their eyes drawing the two ever closer. Carrying her to their bed, his mouth never left hers, lips meeting and swirling against Leah's in quiet adoration.

Leah felt high, floating, her body liquid to Sam's powerful embrace. He slid out of his shirt as she eyed him shyly from the bed. She felt possessed by his presence, and instinctively spread her legs and aching sex for him as he lowered his jeans to stand naked and erect before her, eyes burning into her bare skin.

In one movement, he was upon her, mouth capturing her lips, her neck, her tender breasts, his swollen and fiery cockhead plunging into her steaming sex with the force of his desire. Pleasure flooded her body, senses spinning, as his muscled form bore down on her, rending her open to him.

"_Sam...!"_

Sam had never had intercourse without the barrier of a condom before, and the hot shock of Leah's heat, her wetness, the pressure of her tight slit around his bare cockshaft crushed every effort he might have made to proceed slowly. Before he could stop himself, his cock sank and seated itself deep inside her, tight and rigid as iron.

_God, yes..._

Leah cried out, her hips winding a tight orbit around Sam's invading member. Each thrust of his hardened cock sent molten jolts of fire and pleasure through her sex.

He threw himself against her with the force and speed of a jackhammer, mindless, lost in her heat, eyes glazed and sightless. Gone were the careful postures she had held in the past to keep him from entering her fully, replaced with a shameless and loving openness of her thighs. The potential of their union sent him spiraling into a sexual frenzy.

"_I love you, Lee-lee...I need you..." _

It was time for him to claim her precious body in the most profound way possible. His Alpha directive rang in his mind, finding voice choked with pleasure.

"_You're mine, Lee-lee...ALL MINE...!"_

He bit at her, teeth splitting skin, hips convulsing against her as her heels dug into his muscled ass, urging him deeper and harder. She writhed wantonly beneath him -- screaming his name, exultant with pleasure -- the burning lunge of his stiff, swollen cock spreading and filling her completely with each violent, passionate thrust.

"_Oh...Sam... all yours... forever...! oh god, all ... Yours....!"_

Her staggering climax locked her sex down onto his throbbing cock, the glorious force of its compression around his pulsating shaft causing Sam to cry out in astonished rapture.

He could already feel the hard knot of swelling forming at the base of his penis, a wolfen mutation that would catch and hold his cock deeply inside her when he came. His semen would have nowhere to go but deep inside her -- uniting with her unprotected and receptive ovum -- impregnating her. The thought provoked another round of fierce convulsions, wracking his body with unbearable need.

_So DEEP...._

Unseen muscles in her pelvis tightened with each savage penetration, squeezing down upon the thickening plug, ultimately clenching hard, pinning his cockhead to her cervix.

He screamed, his entire being roiling and jerking.

Trapped inside her, his cock erupted seed, the sharp jolt of his searing ejaculate crashing against the portal of her fertile womb. Leah's heart soared as she came with him, her sex massaging his in orgasmic waves, welcoming him inside her, body and soul.

Tightly bound to her, he burned and howled, a powerful shudder passing through his form, signaling an immanent phase to wolfen form.

_Leah....!_

Their feral minds began to meld as he felt her skin phase-shudder against him in response. His engorged cock rocketed, pulsing unceasingly inside her tight sex, hot jets of semen rushing from his balls. Panic seized him as the phasing neared.

_They were inextricably locked together._

Her mind softly and urgently entered his, flooding him with an outpouring from her heart.

_Stay with me...I love you...all of you..._

Sam gasped, feeling warm tendrils of caring and gentle acceptance embrace his pounding heart. Together, their trembling slowly diminished. She kissed his quivering shoulder.

_I want this so much...._

In moments, the entwined pair of lovers lay panting together in the bed, still quite human, sweat streaming from their bodies onto the sheets.

"_Lee-lee...all mine now...so in love with you..." _

Sam's face was pressed tightly to her neck, a pained grimace of awe, lust and desperation etching his features. The pulsing of his seed continued unabated, cock thick and jerking its ancient rhythm deep inside her. It was the most agonizing pleasure he had ever experienced.

"Baby, I can't pull out yet..."

Leah smiled, still breathing hard, lips pressed to his perspiring forehead. The sensation of his body, tightly lodged inside hers, was exquisite.

"Then don't try, Sam, don't try..."

And so he kissed her deeply -- and gratefully -- hard and long, instead.

* * *

**Isn't it fun to see the two of them together? The rest of our story proceeds with Jacob and Bella, with occasional appearances from Sam and Leah. Thanks for reading, and for all of your encouragement!**


	3. Chapter 1 Jacob's Need

**Title: 1001 Jacobian Nights**

**Author: Amanda Wilder**

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. Original situations and dialogue property of the author. Unauthorized duplication prohibited.**

**Pairings: Jacob/Bella; Sam/Leah**

**Story: AU; MA**

A/N: _Our story begins nearly four years after the events described in the Prologue. Special spanks out to aowalison, littlefurrycannibals, BellaFlan & Pavarti for prereading and spanking back ; ))_

**1001 JACOBIAN NIGHTS**

**Chapter One – Jacob's Need**

His shaft ached and burned.

Jacob shifted uncomfortably on the couch. This was, if anything, worse than yesterday had been.

Much worse than a week ago.

And much, much worse than a month ago.

The game he fitfully watched with his dad began to blur on the tiny screen. His balls rode tight between his thighs. This was going to need his personal attention. Again.

It -- this inescapable pulse he felt in his cock -- had all started in earnest a month ago. And it -- like all things -- had started with Cullen. _Cullen._

A month ago, Bella had informed him that she and Cullen were getting married. Despite the fact that Bella hadn't wanted to get married at all.

And that was the same night when he had arrived home with a hot, heaving feeling in his throat. No tears -- a Quileute man does not cry, not even a young one -- but a searing sense of loss and confusion had made its way down his chest, into his belly, and taken up roots in his groin.

That was the night his erection had kept him awake, burning with the ferocity of his desire to make Bella his own. His _woman._ In every heart-wrenching, biologically-driven sense of the word.

_No longer a girl. _

_A woman._

The same night that he had conjured up every image, every memory, every unsexy thought he could -- the usual: the pack, gathered around a fire on the beach; his many half-attempts at getting the '67 caddy in his garage to run; the smell the fridge gave off after so many months of forgotten leftovers...

None of it had worked. Not even touched the agonizing blaze of heat that filled his cock as it rasped and twitched against the ancient poly-cotton sheets of his bed.

Jacob was well aware what other boys did in his condition. But to think of _her_ in that way -- up until that point -- had been, well, _unthinkable_.

And yet her announcement that day -- made with a touch of irritation, a touch of regret, a shitpile of false enthusiasm -- that she was getting _married_ -- had only really meant one thing to him, as a man. She was getting married, and she was going to have..._sex. _

_She would no longer be a virgin._

So that crazy night, a month ago, that sad crazy night, Jacob had had to delve deeper to quell the burning. Because once his hand touched his burning erection, his thoughts were going in one direction, and one direction only. That direction -- the _images_ -- that had, in the past, only skirted his imaginings before he had successfully clamped down on them with iron will. Sheer force of will.

He would _not_ think of her that way.

So, lying naked and panting on his bed, he went deeper. The worst moments sprung to his mind from a cold, shuttered place in his heart:

the wild, angry face of his father, slamming the phone down and cracking it, before slumping into a heap on the floor. _momma's dead..._

his father, legs mangled by the tree that had eaten half-way into the battered Nova on impact. _doc says dad'll never walk again..._

Jacob had felt the searing burn of grief rimming his eyes at these and other wretched moments that had pock-marked his young life. And the roar of his need had lessened for a moment, as he stared at the torn ceiling tiles above him.

But in the end, his cock had won. No effort of will, no grief-soaked memory, nothing was going to relieve this tight, helpless pulse. His cock burned and roared against the taut stomach of his young body. His cock burned his resolve. And his resolve, like a traitorous, paper-thin curtain, had burned with it.

_Bella. On her wedding day._

Not to Cullen. _To me._

His cock had gone rigid in his hand at first touch, each vein pulsing, the need so strong he could taste it.

He could see her in his mind's eye. Soft and so, so pretty in white. Dressing, hidden away from all the others, in white lingerie. Sliding the gown up over her thighs, up against her ribcage, tilting one arm and then the other to place the straps against her shoulders...

Turning to see him standing and watching her, asking him to please, zip the dress for her...

_Virginal._

He was shaking now, a fine mist of perspiration running from his knees, up his muscled thighs, most pronounced around his hips and groin, and crawling up the smooth lines of his abdominals. He could smell himself.

Not the smell of a boy. _The smell of a man._

The bed creaked as he slid to his side and then onto his stomach, groaning with the weight of his new position.

When had he grown so heavy...? The muscles of his biceps surged as he leaned against his left arm, head on his fist, his other arm rippling with the force of his right hand, still wrapped around his cock.

_She was seated before him now, knees and feet parted, just a white bra and... white, silky panties. The last barrier between him and that perfect, untouched cleft between her thighs._

The bed rocked under him as his hips began to buck against his clenched fingers, cock ablaze.

_Her hands on the soft fabric as she inched her panties down, slowly but willingly, until the tiny slip of white fabric hung at one of her bare ankles..._

He was moaning now, crying out, lips and teeth parted against the palm of his left hand, his cock thrusting, bursting, the hot line of his cum crashing into the mattress, ass clenching as he roared his release, head spinning, the force and pleasure tearing the sounds from him as he screamed. His entire body jack-knifed as the orgasm ripped through him, each hot, helpless pulse, each hot expulsion punctuated by his cries, tearing the air.

_YOU'RE MINE BELLA MINE ALL MINE FUCKING MINE ALL MINE._

His body had shook as the echoes of his screams pounded through the room, his half-hard cock swimming in the damp heat beneath him. His cum, spilled on the bed.

And he swore, with the few waning brain impulses he barely possessed, that his cum would be deep inside her, where it belonged.

_Inside her._

He had ejaculated twice more that evening, once the jagged edge of his remorse had faded into the pillow on which he had mashed his head. Once the genie was out of the proverbial bottle, his balls had ached with the memory of the hundreds of times he had lain on his bed, rigid with desire, and refused to release himself. And three had seemed, by contrast, the least his cock might have demanded of him.

And four had become a distinct possibility even as his misted eyes, blurry with sweat, had finally closed in slumber.

A month later, the episodes -- the force of his orgasms -- had only increased exponentially.

And Jacob had it bad. But what did he have, exactly?

A biting desire -- and a burning love -- for a girl who was addicted to another guy. An addict whose eyes glazed over when she was with him, whose eyes tightened and faded when he wasn't around, a girl who was so certain of her connection to a boy she barely knew that she called him her soul-mate. A boy -- a man? -- if that was what he even was, precisely -- who could barely stand to kiss her without fear of eating her alive.

Was that love?

"Another walk tonight, son?" The game had ended, mercifully, and the news was beaming the waxy, grinning faces of the news anchors nodding their shiny heads at each other. Billy was wheeling his chair over to the ancient set, punching the knob that would cast the room into near darkness.

"Yeah, dad."

"Try not to make it a long one," Billy murmured, as though unconvinced of his own edict. On some level he knew what was happening to his son, whatever impulse that had him striding into the woods night after night, was not a choice but a necessity.

"You have school in the morning."

"Mm."

Jacob waited until his father had left the room before peeling himself off the old recliner.

The burn was strident now. As powerful as the urge to phase, and as such, impossible to ignore. It was a part of him now, if not the driving force of his life. It would be awkward, if not painful, to walk normally now, and so he had waited until his father was out of sight. His cock had swollen between his legs, already the precum staining the seam of his cut-offs.

A walk. To the woods. Quickly..._quickly._

_Already the images were swirling in his mind. That afternoon, Bella on a rare reprieve from the Cullens, they had gone to the beach. Sun. Hot sun, and the promise of a splash in the nearly-frigid waters._

_She had worn a black bikini -- a gift from Alice, she had said -- the only bathing suit she owned. And modestly kept a thin white T-shirt over it to prevent sunburn, with the faded image of the Owl and the Pussycat in their little boat across her chest. The little ties of the bikini bottom had peaked out from under the shirt as she walked beside him, little bows that hardly seemed adequate to the task of holding the suit together._

His cock had begun to throb. He was already having trouble breathing. Once inside the cover of the first band of trees, he slid out of his pants and stood naked, both hands trembling as they soothed his aching shaft. Eyes tightly shut, he shifted from one foot to the other on the smooth carpet of pine needles, calves and thighs quivering, the smooth arc of his ass clenching as desire flooded him.

Within moments, a hot band of white cum shot into the air, the second and third spurts coursing down his shaft, coating his balls and dripping long loopy lines across the straining muscles of his thighs.

_They had shared a beach towel, the hot sand shifting under them._

_And they had laughed together, unguardedly. He had told her stories of the boys, conjured images of the newbies chasing their tails in the thrall of their first phase. He had mimed their actions on all fours, tossing sand every which way as his muscles had twitched, his face a comically-drawn imitation of the shock each boy had suffered when he bit onto his own tail. Bella had laughed so hard she held her stomach, rocking onto her side, exposing the black suitbottom and the curve of her behind._

_The sand from his antics had gotten onto her legs, sticking to the suntan lotion. _

_It had been easy to coax her into the water to wash it off. _

_With a huge smile, she had screamed as he crouched in the water doggie-style, shaking the water from his hair and muscled back like the family retriever given an unwanted bath._

_It had been at that moment that he had looked up. Her shirt, wet and plastered to her body. Her breasts, boldly outlined by the black suit underneath the thin veil of Owl and Pussycat. Her nipples, rigid..._

He leaned a hand against the crumbling bark of a dying tree, head spinning. Moonlight filtered through the trees, casting a spray of light against his broad, heaving shoulders. He palmed the head of his cock, playing with the bits of moisture that seeped from its sensitive aperture.

_Her nipples had been large. He could almost make out the tight puckers that surrounded them, giving way to the smooth slope of her breasts..._

Mindless, stroking... he brought a dripping finger to his mouth, running the textured underside of it against his lips. Tonguing it.... Sucking ....

He came again, violently, bringing him to his knees. His cock pulsed madly against his palm, the sob he had valiantly tried to withhold now ripping at his lungs, tearing at the humid air. The sound continued to wrench and gurgle in his throat as his body convulsed, his head now bent and brushing against the broken trunk that had so lately served to brace him.

_He had teased her then. Were girls from dust-swept Arizona even able to swim? Drifting out beyond the curling waves he had beckoned..and she had followed. He never had to ask her twice, she always rose to his minor challenges...one little jump, two little jumps, she had splashed through the low-breaking waves and had landed just a foot from him, grasping his outstretched palms. And so he had drawn her out into the water, her shirt ballooning in the tide as it swirled between them. And then, naughty boy, he had pulled them both under!_

He smiled wearily as he made his way deeper into the forest, hand still gripping his cock. No sense troubling Billy with sounds he didn't need to hear. The branches snapped and clawed at his legs and chest, digging into his skin like a much-needed scourge.

_Quick as lightening, he had pulled her to him, pulled them both to the surface, her gasping lips just millimeters from his own. The warm spray of her breath had glistened his face, some of it landing in his own open mouth..._

_Unbidden, her legs had clasped his firm waist...and for a moment, a brilliant burning moment, he had felt her sex press against his bare skin, the bottom of her suit riding sideways...the brush of soft, downy hair against his tensing abdomen...._

Good god! How he had wanted her then. His cock agreed, pulsing eagerly into his spayed fingers. He sank to his haunches, back pressed against the moss of a fallen log. He could feel the sharp tick of a branch beneath his buttocks, before the sensation dimmed in the heat of his deep, burning arousal. His other hand tentatively reached down to cup his aching balls, softly stroking the hair there, thinking of hers...

_Like a good boy, he had drifted them back to shallow waters, her sputtering softly caressing his neck. And he had put her down to stand on her own, and good-naturedly taken a few swats of sea water full in the face as she made them even again._

_But in his mind's eye...they were still in the water, still embracing, the soft curls of her pubis tickling his stomach, as they kissed, open-mouthed, his hand drifting to the little black ties of her suit...pulling the strings...feeling the softly exposed hair against his fingertips..._

His mouth hung open, eyes sightless, the crown of his shaft bursting, hips thrusting as a searing shot coated his chest and neck. Mouth open, keening, his almighty aahhhs bellowing into the forest. Thick layers of sperm coated his knuckles, running down his wrist, the final few spurts landing in a deepening pool against his tightly flexing abs.

_Bella please...GIVE IT TO ME._

Moments passed, his mind gently touching the image of her walking back to the truck, closing the day away to drive them back home.

_And her, back to Cullen._

Shakily, he drew himself to his feet, stumbling in the direction of his house, his bed. Where he would lie and sleep, curled in a warm huddle, alone for now.

**AN: Head's UP! There is a special, bonus Outtake Lemon Offer in Chapter 7 for those who review every chapter of 1001 JN. You don't have to go all NYTimes Book Review on me, just leave some love for every chapter, and I'll send you the URL for the extra, steamy-creamy J/B Outtake!**


	4. Chapter 2 Female Trouble

**1001 Jacobian Nights**

**by Amanda Wilder**

**All characters belong to Stephanie Meyer**

**Original situations and dialogue property of the author;**

**no copyright infringement intended.**

**AN: AU, OOC, Mature themes**

**A/N: Thanks everyone, for your overwhelmingly positive response! We've spent the last three chapters exploring the wolves, and the next three chapters are devoted to Edward and Bella's mutual addiction. Jacob will pop in from time to time to remind us of where we're headed. Extra-special thanks to aowalison for pressuring me/encouraging me to develop a plot-line, she deserves all sorts of kudos for being supportive, encouraging and an all-out Modern Goddess. I hope you enjoy where the next series of chapters takes us.**

**Chapter 2 – Female Trouble**

The alarm blared at precisely 2am, just as it should have.

Bella's eyes flew open, hand outstretched moments later to tug at the little drawer of her bedside table. Even in the dark, she had already memorized the contours of the plastic bottle inside, knew exactly how long it would take to pry the thing open, dumping its contents frantically on the mattress beside her.

_Hurry._

In a breathless instant she had sorted and snatched the half-tablet amongst the others, cramming it into her mouth and sucking at the glass of water that still jiggled with the force of her onslaught on the table seconds before.

_Pray it works, pray it works, pray it works..._

She hung her legs off the side of the bed, the lower half of her body leaden, swallowing the remainder of the water held with a shaking hand. Already her abdomen cringed with the tiny but viciously sharp pains that threatened to become large, gut-piercing agonies. Had she waited too long?

_Perhaps another half tab? another whole? ...codeine, thank god for codeine..._

The painkiller was so strong, Carlisle had had to write a prescription for it. It fogged the mind so powerfully, she had resorted to catching rides to school with Charlie several days a month. In the cruiser.

_Not Edward. Never Edward._

Edward, who could barely stand to be within a mile of her when she had her period. Who had almost bared his teeth and ripped her open that fateful night he had spent in the rocking chair beside her sleeping form, when early morning had brought on those first few droplets of blood.

That was the morning they had discovered that Edward could not resist Bella's blood in any form, and only a frantic text from Alice had saved them both from irrevocable incident.

_Get out of there NOW, _it had read.

And he had fled. And couldn't bear it, even the thought of it. None of them could stand it, really; even Alice had abandoned her in haste after the numerous chemical douches she had brought to Bella's attention one afternoon had failed to mask the aroma. And then, she had been left to suffer, alone.

Her period after that first, that terrible realization, had been murderous in its own way.

The pain had been excruciating, the flow heavy and long. Bella had felt doubly punished, deprived of her Edward, and unable to dodge the cramps and headaches that rendered her, for all intents and purposes, an invalid.

Charlie, never one to seek professional medical care, had been concerned enough to take her in to see Carlisle, eyebrows cresting his forehead as he pulled the cruiser up to the emergency ward, Bella's screams rattling the windows.

She had been completely out of control of her body. And her body had wanted her to know it. Deeply and thoroughly.

Only Carlisle, in his compassionate bloodlessness, had been able to be with her, to help her, with medications and tests, and still more medications.

Months had passed, and the usual panoply of medical jargonese had been bandied about as the symptoms had worsened: endometriosis...hormone imbalances...mid-cycle bleeding...fibroid tumors...but none of the tests had been conclusive.

Her latest period a few days past, Bella had discovered little choice in the matter when she had finally sought out female advice. As she timidly brought up the subject of her ever-widening array of symptoms, Esme had held her hand and listened with sympathy, her calm exterior masking the deeper concern that brewed with each of Bella's faltering admissions.

And with Esme gently nodding, Bella began to breathe. She needed to talk about Edward, about Edward and their _relations. _And once she began to spill, it had all come out in intimate detail, sparing nothing.

_...the constant battle within herself to quell her general arousal, which would return with a vengeance as soon as their physical attraction brought the pair to touch and caress... her skin had crawled with need for days on end, after one or another of his many aborted attempts to kiss or embrace her.... _

_...her breasts had grown so minutely sensitive that she often had to fight the urge to rub them... her labia were so often tender and swollen... her panties nearly always soaked with the constant trickle between her lips... _

_...and the ache, the constant burning ache that ran the length of her sex to points deep inside her, at times causing outright pain..._

_...worst of all, she had completely given up any attempt at granting herself carnal release, for fear that Edward might smell it on her and become enraged, or worse. Not that his nightly visits to her bedroom, chaste and Victorian as they were, had ever really given her any privacy in which to do so...._

Bella had swallowed her natural mortification in exchange for the borrowed relief in revealing her problems, even in such graphic detail. And Esme had listened, all the while her immortal mind flitting between the reality of the girl in front of her, and the knowledge that with Bella's change, she and Edward would have many years to enjoy each other fully and sexually, as the rest of her family had.

A change that Edward had sternly pronounced to his family would take place in five years passing, despite his promise to Bella.

If it were to happen at all.

The matter had been so thoroughly discussed within the family that no one felt inclined to mine the topic further: Bella was Edward's bloodsinger, and his cross to bear.

By excavating the endearments of "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" from the morass of popular culture that surrounded him, Edward had come upon a cunning and effective way to bind Bella to him outside of the traditional vampire/vampire pairings Esme had observed in their race. And of her son's sacrifice, his willingness to place his adoration of Bella over the easier, more conventional choice of Tanya or some other vampiress, Esme was a bit proud.

But what of Bella's body....already thin, she had begun to lose weight; her pace, once slow, now jittery; her rapid mood swings the thing of legend, her anxiety and anger pulling at Edward -- and by extension the Cullen household -- often at odds with the tranquil life Esme had long sought to cultivate between her children and the world around them.

She had patted Bella's hand, smiling gently -- a bit conspiratorially, perhaps -- and had promised to bring the matter to Carlisle herself on Bella's behalf.

* * *

That night, while fast asleep, an unfamiliar, sultry spasm rocked Bella's hips, as though her insides had found the most delicious way in which to internally massage and stimulate themselves. Molten pressure and release ran through her sex, up into her abdomen, and back again, the pleasure shocking her eyes open in the darkness.

The rocking chair at the foot of the bed, so often occupied as she slept, creaked and swayed.

She closed her eyes again, drawing her knees up to her chin, as though asking her body what had just happened.

_In her dream, the bright orb of the sun had beat down on her on the beach as she lay on a towel. Sunbathing... naked... the heat of it had wrapped itself around her body, concentrating itself in a scorching beam between her parted thighs. A man had materialized, obscuring the sun -- it had been someone very, very powerful....a superhero of some sort...? ...his silhouette had been hugely muscular, and she had felt supremely safe as he had cascaded down on top of her._

_The warm rush in her pelvis had clenched and clenched around itself...._

...and had woken her with its intensity. Small, irregular ripples continued to run through her sex, and as she eased her legs back onto the mattress, heart pounding, she felt a distinctive pinging, her clit's own heartbeat, hammering back at her at random intervals.

Instinctively, her hand had reached down to press it, feel its pulse against her fingers. Yes, that felt better.... The flow of her pleasure's essence ran like warm syrup down her inner lips, pooling between the line of her buttocks.

_Oh god. Edward._

A cold shock ran through her, a gasp yanking her upright, her frantic gaze falling on the rocking chair. Empty, and now still.

Had he done something to her in her sleep? But --

Cognitive dissonance ... Edward's hands and mouth were always so cold, but this dream had been almost unbearably hot and steamy...she could still feel the warm perspiration between her breasts and at the backs of her knees as it cooled in the night air.

Whatever had happened to her in her sleep had driven him away, apparently, and as self-recrimination set in, the tears welled up and then dried unfallen as she lay back on the bed.

_That had felt really, really good..._

Reasonably certain Edward would not immediately return, she continued to touch herself. Sliding her fingers lower and deeper, she was amazed at the heat, wet and swollen, that awaited her there.

Without another thought, she threw herself at the window and threw the latch, then to the door, to twist the bolt, securing it with her clean hand.

More of a symbolic lock-out, truth be told -- but Bella was satisfied.

With Edward's absence, the room had become perceptively warmer; no need to drag the numerous blankets she normally slept under up from their rumpled pile on the floor. Settling back on the bed, she closed her eyes and the image of the man from her dream returned instantly, easily and unbidden.

And with him, the heat and the delicious warm ache returned as well.

_Now he was leaning over her, hovering on his hands and knees, dark and masked in shadow by the brilliant sun that shone at his back. His body seared against her nakedness as he lowered himself onto her, lightly brushing his body against hers..._

Released into her own private world, her free hand began to cup her own breasts, massaging them, the man in her dream pressing down on her, his hands moving in time with her own. Of its own accord, her head began to toss and turn...

_... her body arching into his as his skin enveloped her, his pelvis sliding against the slippery wetness, the swollen tip of his cock massaging her tight opening..._

Her hand ran rhythmically along all of the most tender points of her sex, rocking, moaning, perhaps louder than she may have liked, as the orgasm rippled and burned through her flesh. She rode the pleasure as it travelled up and down, walls clenching, her lips stretched tight and hot against her fingers, burning, bucking, screaming -- until she finally had to stifle a laugh at the dearness of her release.

Hand still firmly pressed to her sex, Bella rolled onto her side into a little ball, squeezing her legs together .... staring, panting, grinning.

The sense-memory of her fantasy lingered, its scent filling her lungs and making her a little dizzy. As in the dream, the scent had been as familiar to her as rain; had not been Edward Cullen's rarified fragrance at all.

The mysterious sun-masked hero who had brought her to orgasm on the beach had been her childhood friend, Jacob Black.

* * *

Upon his narrow escape from Bella's bedroom and back to his own, Edward could barely suppress the disgust he felt, his haunted eyes staring unseeing at the shelves of CDs before him. Nothing appealed.

One distinct thought surfaced amidst the mental turmoil that always accompanied one of Bella's libidinous outbursts, as it had so many times in the past he had long given up counting: that if this issue would only go away, things between them would be perfect. Perfect and simple.

That he had continued to exist far beyond a normal human life-expectancy for the epoch of his birth -- had lived to see men on the moon, the advent of computers and the deployment of the atomic bomb -- was lost in the realization that if he had only met Bella in the early 1900s, around the time of his transformation, things between them would have been easier. Those had been the days when ladies were never without chaperones, wore dresses that covered them from their chins past their ankles, and when first kisses occurred shortly before lawfully-sanctioned connubial joinings.

But such was not to be, and now Edward was mired in what he thought of ruefully as a modern relationship, attempting to express his love and affection for a human girl, all the while surrounded by the graphic, unguarded thoughts of hundreds of hormonal teenagers and the insistently sexual bent of every television program, movie and song.

The fact that his immediate family had become similarly infected with this new sexual celebration of modern culture, with its attendant anomalies and crass experimentation, was not lost on him. The fact that Bella was, disappointingly, _not_ the timid flower she had first appeared to be was not lost on him either.

Most days he was content with breathing in her scent and basking his eyes in the beauty of her innocent face, and so he was often caught completely off-guard by her demands for kisses and the shameless wandering of her perilously warm hands.

Any purely masculine desire he might have felt for her during these moments was entirely eclipsed by the hot rush of blood to her skin, the gorgeous fragrance of it emanating from her entire being, taunting him with its proximity. As she squirmed in his arms, trying to entice him to open his mouth to her, his focus was squarely drawn to her erogenous zones, pumped full of blood and calling to him in quite a different way than she intended.

Turning away from the untouched music library, Edward rubbed his forehead, mimicking the human impulse to forestall a headache. He was tired, already tired of the same conundrums, and the light of the day ahead had barely announced itself. And so when Alice bounded into the room, practically frothing at the mouth to go shopping, he was much less reticent than usual to join her. She was his favorite sibling, and nearly always managed to briefly distract him from his melancholy.

Hours later, school long having been dodged and forgotten, they sped towards Seattle, with its promise of Ferrari showrooms and tiny, exquisite Stella McCartney boutiques ahead of them.

"Why so glum, chum?"

For a moment, Edward allowed a smile to curl at the ends of his lips at the Depression-era endearment.

"Bella had a dream," he said, his expression fading to indifference.

"But I thought you liked her dreams," Alice said with a mock-pout. "Doesn't she talk about you in her sleep?" Edward was developing a habit of reacting negatively even to those things he had once professed to love about Bella, and it annoyed her.

"This one was different from the others." Edward felt a twinge of irritation at being once again required to defend his squeamishness towards Bella's behavior.

"There wasn't much talking in this one." He grimaced, then looked out his window. "Just a lot of...moving around..."

Saying nothing more, he heaved a tremendous, unnecessary sigh. Alice smiled to herself. He was getting so good at this elaborately-constructed martyrdom.

Perceiving her thoughts, he quickly snapped his head forward.

"Let's shop. Just shop. OK?"

Her smile became a grin.

"Very well, loverboy. What's it going to be today? Planes, trains, automobiles? A new Steinway for the maestro, perhaps?..."

He opened his mouth to speak, but Alice had seen something first.

"I've got it," she almost shrieked. "Fine wines."

Edward raised an eyebrow at her, but said nothing, waiting for her to elaborate.

"There...!" She pulled off the boulevard abruptly, tucking the Porche into a tight spot directly in front of an elite liquor shop. Madison Park Cellars, the sign read.

"I'm going to throw another one of my wild parties," she crowed, batting her eyes fiercely at him with enthusiasm.

Edward smiled at her indulgently, his affection for her blossoming in his eyes. There were no parties, of course, but Alice always enjoyed the ruse of shopping for one, catching the amazed and delighted sales clerks up in the thrill of her creativity. That she could also walk away with purchases totaling an entire month's receipts for a small shop such as this one was merely a bonus for everyone involved.

As soon as Alice had commandeered the manager of the shop to witness, aid and abet her fantasy gathering -- a wine-tasting to span the globe and to include multiple bottles from every possible country, apparently -- Edward took a moment to inspect the locked cabinets at the rear of the shop.

"I'm Fred, how can I help you?" A tall, slender man in his 40s appeared at Edward's elbow. Edward watched from the man's mind as he took in the vampire's impeccably-tailored appearance, landing finally on his shoes -- Armani couture loafers, costing upwards of $2,000 a pair.

"I was hoping you might have a 2005 Bouchard Pere et Fils Chevalier Montrachet la Cabotte," Edward said, rolling his r's and flashing a dazzling smile. "But I would just as easily settle for a 1990 Rayas Chateauneuf-du-Pape."

The man glanced uneasily at Alice, only a shoulder-length or two away from where they stood. She was the sort of customer that bothered him -- the ones who announced their intention to buy and drink the same night, with no appreciation whatsoever for a wine's life-span, its potential to become a greater jewel with the passing of time.

"Perhaps you and I should progress to the cellar, downstairs," the man said quickly and precisely, leading Edward to a door behind the counter.

Once ushered to the dimly-lit underground chamber, Edward pursed his lips and nodded with great seriousness as Fred extolled the technologies that Madison Cellars had invoked to keep their very finest, collector-vintage wines at their peak.

"Wines such as these might be held for at least 25 years before one might ever consider tasting," Fred said pointedly, taking in Edward's youth. "But never more than fifty; by then, you might find yourself with a very expensive bottle of vinegar."

They laughed at the shared joke.

"Of course, the same might be said of women," Fred continued, relishing his favorite punchline.

The older man laughed again, but Edward merely smiled in agreement, his eyes narrowed and thoughtful.

Once in possession of Fred's top ten picks, Edward rejoined Alice at the sales counter, paying swiftly and well into six digits, leaving the staff stunned and giddy in their wake.

"Now that I think of it, all that booze might come in handy for the wedding," Alice remarked. "There will be _humans_ there, of course!"

Edward was quiet for a moment, then spoke.

"Perhaps it makes little sense to rush things. I have it on good authority that some of the more precious bottles may benefit from aging a bit, before uncorking."

**A/N: We often think our lives would be so much better if we had buckets of money. I actually know quite a few very rich people who are miserable. ; ))**

**OK... back to business. Be sure to click on Author Alert, as I may be starting another fic here in the next few weeks. Sugar draws the bees, so please review. Anonymous views enabled too! Love to hear from you.**


	5. Chapter 3 Killing Her Softly

**Title: 1001 Jacobian Nights**

**Author: Amanda Wilder**

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. Original situations and dialogue property of the author. Unauthorized duplication prohibited.**

**Pairing: Jacob/Bella**

**Story: AU; MA**

**A/N: I got the idea for this part of the story from a book I read a few years ago about the lives of prostitutes in the Old West. There is also a good entry on "Female Hysteria" on Wikipedia; fascinating stuff, go check it out ; ) Thanks go out to aowalison, furry little cannibals, BellaFlan and Pavarti for being willing to read this and offer their valuable suggestions. Go check out their fics if you haven't already -- links are on my profile!**

**The plot thickens a bit here, then goes back to more J&B in Chapter 5. Ever wonder what E's problem is? Here's a little look into his bloodthirsty mind: **

**1001 Jacobian Nights – Chapter 3 – Killing Her Softly**

Edward sat with the pages spread before him, staring into space. The words were a haze when he sought to focus on them, strings of letters that made entirely too much sense; but to him, in their entirety, made no sense at all.

He had at first been optimistic when Carlisle had called him into his study, his father's thoughts alight with the prospect of having finally uncovered the cause behind the mysterious ailment that had been plaguing Bella. It was the cure itself that had caused Edward to subsequently reel in shock.

The fact that someone -- Carlisle's secretary, without doubt -- had actually committed these words to paper, for Edward to read, and for him to subsequently act upon, was enough to make the young vampire want to rip the pages to shreds and destroy the evidence.

"Female hysteria," Carlisle had called it, as Edward felt his own personal strain of hysteria run through his empty veins. The good doctor had apparently been witness to it himself: a peculiarly female, sexual illness -- and convenient diagnosis -- that had been popular a hundred years past, used to describe the myriad gynecological problems suffered by widows, virgins, and, incredibly, prostitutes of a bygone era.

The disease was a product of unfulfilled sexual tension: the want of touch, the want of release. Of course, Bella had been telling him the same things in so many words, but here it was now, in black and white. A long list of activities -- cures, Carlisle had euphemistically termed them -- that Edward was somehow now beholden to enact for Bella's benefit.

Without killing her.

"Your mother and I would like you to try," Carlisle had said firmly, sensing his son's reticence on the other side of the wide oak desk.

And there it was, the parental directive: rarely invoked in the Cullen household, but compulsory when it was issued.

Thus Edward had found himself mechanically reading through Bella's "prescription" in his room. Bracing himself for the inevitable.

* * *

"All of this, for me?" Edward could not mistake the hopeful gleam in Bella's eyes as she finally tore her attention from the stacks of paper in front of her. "Really, Edward?"

There were graphic anatomical diagrams and descriptions, white boxes with generic medical labels, and a large assortment of gadgetry and lubricants hidden discretely away in plastic bags, all strewn in piles about her room. He had dimly hoped that she would be as revolted by it as he had been, but, unfortunately, that did not seem to be the case.

When he felt he could avoid it no longer, he led her to the bed and sat down beside her.

"Let's try the first few things," he said, using a tone he knew would draw a pleasured response from her. She snuggled closer to him and gazed at him expectantly.

"Close your eyes..." Edward urged, knowing he could not do what was required of him with her eyes boring into him so longingly. She closed them.

Mindful not to breathe, he ran his fingers gently through her hair, brushing the edge of her ear as he did so. A tightness gripped his chest, and for a moment, the rich taboo of his most profound desire sprung to mind, unbidden:

..._his incisors, bared of his lips and sinking to the hilt in her unprotected throat and neck... the surging bloodspray of her punctured artery shooting into his open mouth ... his cock ripping into her sex, forcibly discharging the acidic poison of his vampiric loins deep within her...her screams, ringing in his ears...._

_Fuck... yes_.

He paused.

"Mmm, that feels nice," she whispered encouragingly, eyes still closed, reaching out her hand to place it on his thigh.

Edward gritted his sharp teeth.

"This is just for you, Bella, my love." He smoothly moved her hand back onto her lap. "Perhaps you could just....sit on your hands? So you won't be tempted?"

Obediently, Bella slid her hands under her bottom, smiling at the game and tilting her chest forward in the hopes that he might touch her there next.

Biting back his growing need, Edward ran the backs of his fingers against her face, down the side of her soft neck, and along her collarbone. He tensed and swallowed a bitter mouthful of venomous oil as her heartbeat increased, her body warming as he stroked her. Slowly, slowly, his hand inched downward along her bare skin, tracing the smooth curves just above the edge of her shirt. Her body twisted and rose to meet his hand, begging for a firmer touch.

"Bella, hold still."

The hunger continued to ravage his self-control, unabated.

..._tongue to her neck, he would draw freely from her pulsing bloodspring -- hot, sweet to taste, and so perfectly filling his starving mouth -- the well of her humanity draining into him, answering the searing, endless crave, swelling his shaft and flowing, burning throughout his fevered body with its heat... _

"Edward, is this ok?" Bella leaned into him, still sitting on her hands.

Eyes firmly shut, she failed to notice that his irises had shifted from golden amber to glossy black, his hunger growing acute. Desperate thoughts pummeled him.

_...for a few brief moments, his cold, empty veins would once again feel the rapid pulse of human life force within them, the gorgeous pressure of his arousal tearing open her tight, steaming sex, completing him... for that spectacular instant, during that single, sharp explosion of his aching shaft deep inside her struggling body as she died...he would be a man again... _

_oh...FUCK..._

A groan escaped his parted lips. He stiffened.

"No, Bella... don't move at all, darling. I... I'm...trying to _concentrate_."

He shifted closer, head spinning.

Suddenly terrified that Edward might end his delightful touches before they had hardly begun, she bit her lip and nodded, freezing in position and holding herself still as a statue beneath his fingers. Her eyes, once dreamily closed, now carefully lidded, brows creased, as she focused on remaining motionless.

"That's good, love. Try to think of something else while I'm doing this, to calm yourself down."

Her mind, normally so pliant towards him, recoiled at the suggestion. Edward had never touched her in such a sexually suggestive manner -- no one had, in fact -- and the thought of his acting upon half the things listed on that prescription list had soaked the thin layer of her panties through to the seam of her jeans even as she had read it.

Just the very idea that a man might intend upon _stripping her naked_ and doing those things to her made her sex pulse wildly between her legs, sending a delirious ache through her body, the entire surface of her skin crawling with desire.

The scent of her arousal, mixed with her cloying bloodscent, was beginning to genuinely unhinge him, but Edward continued the gentle sweeps of the skin just above her breasts until he was satisfied she had herself tightly reined in.

"That's good, Bella. How do you feel?"

_...so good, so tight, his teeth piercing the virgin expanse of her neck, tasting blood, shearing muscle, meeting bone... hot, wet cunt stripped of innocence, his cock ripping her hymen, leaving a trail of red along his shaft..._

"Nice," she whispered, barely moving her lips.

In truth, she was on fire. She could sense the brute masculinity of his passion rolling off him in waves, causing the burning between her legs to climb upward, her entire sex raw with want.

The strain of holding herself immobile under his caress was almost unbearable.

Edward himself was nearly at his breaking point. His thickening cock traced a long, icy line along the crisp pleat of his Maison Martin Margiela khakis, the force of his urge to taste her crushing his vocal cords into a throaty purr.

"Very good, Bella. That's very good. Now hold perfectly still -- I want to try something..." With that, he swiftly and suddenly buried his nose in the thick of her hair, open-mouthed and inhaling deeply, his cool fingers sliding under the neckline of her shirt to grip her breast.

An abrupt and marvelous shiver closed over her even before his hand or mouth could reach their destinations, and Bella cried out in surprise and pleasure at the twin sensations against her neck and chest.

An instant later, she was alone on the bed.

In one move, he had torn himself from her side, the cool breeze on her skin indicating her vampire's swift and adamant departure to a far corner of the room.

"_DAMN IT_, Bella!"

The harsh clip of his voice sliced through the air, the invective figuratively cutting both her heart and trembling body in half.

Her eyes flew open, gaze coming to rest on the perfidious white prescription sheets that covered her desk. Their false promise taunted her.

Across the room, Edward snarled, incensed and aroused. Here before him sat one Isabella Swan, the same beautiful, wretched bloodsinger who had steadfastly stood between him and his perfect record of temperance since the moment he had first laid eyes on her. Beginning with that initial, fateful day, his abject fury towards her had burned beneath the surface of their turbulent romance, and had never truly left him.

"You can'tdo that, Bella! ..._you can't do_ _anything at all. You. Just. Have. To. Be. Still."_

His anger jolted her, its force a cascading bucket of icewater dashed mightily over her head. She sat open-mouthed, trying to breathe past the sharp, heavy regret that suddenly blockaded her throat. Her hands were cold and numb beneath her, chilled sweat running everywhere she had just been warm.

Edward released an enormous exhalation of self-loathing, disgust and frustration.

Venting his rage at her had likewise had its cooling effect on him, for a moment later he was able to clear his thoughts of her variously penetrated body writhing beneath him, and proceed logically. He would not go back to Carlisle and Esme and admit defeat.

"_Now_. We are going to finish this. And I want _nothing._ Not a word, not a sound, no movement, _nothing_. Do you understand me?" His speech grated in his clenched throat, but the words rang with authority.

"Yes, Edward, I'm sorry. I...I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, I'll be good. I promise to be good..." Her words, spoken in a high, quaking voice, came from a very young place in her heart.

Huge tears ran from her unseeing eyes as he returned to her side, his weight dipping the mattress.

"I'm going to touch you now," he said more softly, confused as to how to handle this sudden display of sorrow. He wanted her to be happy, wanted her to heal. It was just a matter of setting boundaries and sticking to them.

His hands continued their exploration of her skin, but Bella barely felt them. It was as though her body had hollowed, now devoid of the senses that had recently betrayed her. Her tears continued to fall for a few minutes as he bent to stroke her legs, and then to clasp her damp and frigid feet.

"There, that felt good, didn't it."

She nodded silently. He regarded her bent head, feeling a rare twinge of pity for this creature who tormented him beyond all reason.

"I'll speak to Carlisle later this evening, Bella. He may have some ideas as to how this can be done .... differently."

* * * * * * * *

A/N: Maybe a few of you enjoyed getting into Evil E's head for a little ride. But the rest of you, feeling lemon-deprived? Go check out Pavarti's "Fragrant Taste of Rain," a novel and suspense-filled J/B fic that will rock your socks off in later chapters! Jake has never been sexier, trust me on this ; )) It's on my Favorites list....

Also, go read "No Quiero Para Siempre Solo Te Quiero Para Vida" by notashamedtobesoilyfan. Yeah, a mouthful, huh, and no, I don't know what it means. But it's got the makings of a hot, steamy J/B love fic that we all love soooo much!

What did you think of this chapter, Killing Her Softly? did I make Edward evil enough? Please review and tell me how you think he should be punished...


	6. Chapter 4 The Surrogate

**Title: 1001 Jacobian Nights**

**Author: Amanda Wilder**

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. Original situations and dialogue property of the author. Unauthorized duplication prohibited.**

**Pairing: Jacob/Bella**

**Story: AU; MA**

**A/N: Interesting. You guys were pretty evenly divided: 25% blamed Bella for being an idiot for falling in love with Edward, 25% wanted to see Edward strung up, burned or dismembered (or some combination thereof), 25% actually felt sorry for Edward, and wanted to see him have a HEA (he most likely will), and 25% thought that the sooner Jake pounces on Bella, the happier we all will be. Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Your comments really are very entertaining and keep me pounding out the porn here at 1001 Headquarters.**

**If you are wondering why this chapter took so long for me to post, it's because I was up late the other night, in service to our wonderful Wolf Pack community, working my computer-illiterate brain to the bone to get some screen caps of that legendary "TL takes his shirt off" scene in New Moon. Go check them out at JacobBlack-N-Pack in their Jake-tastic photo section; the link is on my profile.**

**Giant, wolf-sized thanks and hugs to aowalison, little furry cannibals, BellaFlan (a Twific finalist! Go vote!) and Pavarti for being fabulous, funny and ever-ready to give me a few pointers on how to make this more fun to read. Go read their fics, thank them, and enjoy…**

**1001 Jacobian Nights - Chap. 4 - The Surrogate**

Edward groaned, tight-lipped, his clenched fist working fitfully at his icy cock in the darkness of the forest.

The pain of his erection was nearly unbearable. Like an angry fever, it stole up from his groin, closed over his chest, and fought its way into his throat. His balls tore at him, the hunger clawing at his self-control, thick steel bands of need and desire forming around his neck, tightening as he struggled, forcing a strangled cry from his lips.

Desperation. The horrible need to return to Bella's room -- to take her body and rip into it, wordlessly and without repentance -- bore down on him.

Fire and torment ate at him, the heat and need acidic and unstoppable. His cock ached, tiny droplets of venom burning, sulphuric, at the tender inner layer of his urethra, his entire attention focused on releasing the terrible pressure that threatened to drive him mad. He sobbed, mindless, as his release rose and crashed in mounting waves which never broke; his cock thick and hard, refusing to give him the pleasure of satisfaction without..._her blood._

_Oh god, the pain, the pain..._

_

* * *

_

"_Have you ever met your bloodsinger?"_

Hours later, Edward was pacing back and forth in Carlisle's study, alternating between yanking at his hair and staring up at the ceiling as he spoke.

"No, Edward, I haven't. You know that." Carlisle had been necessarily curious as to how his son's first attempt at offering Bella what the physician had somewhat vaguely and inaccurately termed "healing touch," to his scientific mind some sort of free-form combination of dermal palpation and gentle caress.

Instead, Edward had spilled out a litany of grief and bile, finally turning to question his father with no little anger.

"Do you even know what it's like to love, really love someone, all the while wanting to ... _rape and murder her ....?"_ Edward's voice cracked at this last pronouncement, his eyes wild with horror and shame.

"Because _that's_ what it feels like, Carlisle, when I'm _touching_ Bella," he spat. "Have you ever felt that? Have you?"

"No, I haven't," Carlisle answered quietly. "Bella's being your bloodsinger is a serious obstacle to intimacy -- certainly -- but you have abided by my principles for decades now, Edward. Your self-control is laudable. You are an inspiration to your mother, and your brothers and sisters. Second only to myself. No one doubts your ability to adhere to our diet, but you."

But Edward wasn't listening. Since his departure from Bella's room earlier that evening, his mind had lodged itself in a very dark, harsh place, and he wanted, more than anything, for his father to hear where he was, to listen to his description of it, and for his father to feel his pain. Without foil, without placating comments.

"You took me, an innocent boy, and turned me into someone who thought nothing of taking the life of another human being. I have memories of killing people, of _murder_, memories that don't ever fade or go away. Our thirst for human blood is real, Carlisle, and it doesn't take a little bit to quench that thirst." Edward raged, his hands flailing wildly. "It's not like I can...dig Bella's tampons out of the trash," and here he made a mad grimace, like crazed child, "_use them for_ _lollipops, _and leave it at that!"

"Edward! That's quite enough." Carlisle was thoroughly shocked. Never in all their years together had he seen his son so deranged.

"No, Carlisle, that's the _problem."_ Edward was covering his face with his hands, slowly crumpling in a heap on the carpet. "It's not 'enough.' _Never enough..._ Her blood is like my own personal heroin, even the _smell_ of it makes me want to...want to...._molest her...and drain her...." _His voice trailed into a croaking whisper, barely coherent.

In all of his 300 or more years on the planet, the samaritan doctor had never once encountered a vampire who had successfully co-habited with his bloodsinger. In fact, he had not known of a single one who had paused for a moment before draining and sexually violating that special being whose blood was so intoxicating that no manner of obstacle had deterred the bloodlust. Even to the point of taking their victims in public, resulting in certain annihilation at the hands of the Volturi.

Looking down at his son in silence, Carlisle was, for the first time in his existence, entirely uncertain as to what to do.

"Please," Edward whispered. "Please send me away. Don't let me stay here, Carlisle, send me far away and don't allow me to return .... for a long time. Find someone else to help Bella, anyone else... please...."

* * *

"It's just not right, man. She's your woman, you can't let another guy touch her!" Emmet was astounded that Edward would ever even consider leaving Bella alone with that _weremutt,_ let alone do half that things to her that were rightfully Edward's to do.

Edward was violently packing his bags for the African safari that would take him to the other side of the world from Bella, and Emmet had volunteered to go with him, the promise of lions, tigers and leopards dancing on his tongue.

"He's a dog, man. A _fucking dog!_"

"He _is_ a dog, that's it -- no woman in her right mind would choose a 17 year-old boy living with a dirt floor in his house over _this, Emmet._" Edward swept his hand in a wide circle, indicating the Cullen manse, and then himself. "On what planet is Bella going to go off with a boy who can barely put gas in his car? He's bound to La Push. He doesn't have any kind of future outside of running around after rabbits in the forest. I really don't think you mean to suggest that he's any competition for her affections, her love for me. Or... _do you...?"_

With that, Edward shot his brother a fierce look that said: _ drop it or fight._

Emmet balked. In some small corner of his mind, he realized that goading his brother was _so not helping._

"Carlisle has this whole..._thing_...figured out. The dogs get their clinic, Bella gets better, and I... have some time to get my _shit_ together."

_And I get to taste me some fine, rare, feline bloodspring_, Emmet thought smugly, ever grateful that Rosalie had chosen him to be her mate those many years ago, and that -- quite simply -- had been that.

"How do you feel about Bella Swan?"

Dr. Cullen looked crisply professional in his white lab jacket as he addressed Jacob behind his steel office desk at the hospital. He took in the boy's tattered appearance. The clothes were clean at least, though frayed. That Bella would befriend such a pitiful waif was just another proof of her innate compassion towards others.

That morning, Jacob had hung on the phone, stunned, as the doctor had called him at his home in La Push, on a matter of some urgency. He was to be at the hospital's administration wing at noon that day, and he and Edward's father would be discussing Bella Swan.

Jacob shifted uncomfortably in the chair that Carlisle had offered him. The chair felt unnaturally confining to him, as though it had been made with the intention of forcing the user to sit facing forward, looking straight into the face of an interrogator.

How did he feel about Bella? Why was the doc asking him this? Did his son somehow figure out his feelings for Bella, read his mind or some sort of vampire voodoo? He had been so careful to think about nothing but car parts and basketball scores whenever Edward was around.

To say that he wanted Bella to be his own girlfriend, not Edward's, did not really reflect the long years they had been close friends, aside from any other intentions he had for her, romantic or otherwise. To say he cared about Bella did not do justice to his appreciation for her cleverness, her beauty, or her supernatural ability to materialize a delicious and satisfying home-cooked meal for him before he even knew he was hungry. To say that he lusted for Bella, well, that was just the cherry, so to speak, on top of the sundae.

He was, in fact, deeply in love with her.

"Bella's not well, is she, doc," he said, attempting to be perfectly honest, while revealing nothing. It had come out more as a statement than a question. "I want her to feel better, I want her to be well."

Carlisle seemed pleased at his response, and Jacob relaxed minutely. Perhaps Edward's father did not intend to grill him about his deeper feelings for Bella, try to warn him off before things came to blows, or worse.

"Bella has a condition that will require her to receive a lot of intimate personal care in the next few months, Jacob. Most of the treatments I would recommend she receive are not available through standard medical practice."

Ah. This was something Jacob knew something about.

"My sister Rebecca runs a holistic healing center on the rez--reservation. They do massage, um, midwiving, and," ..._damn, what was it called? _... "some sort of New Age stuff too..."

"Yes, those are all good things, Jacob."

The young werewolf had the impression Carlisle had pictured his sister bedecked in feathered Pocahontas garb, shaking rattles and dancing around a campfire.

"Bella is going to need personal care from someone close to her. She had mentioned you several times during our appointments as someone she took comfort in, someone she trusts."

It was all Jacob could do not to shout for joy and jump around the room at Carlisle's words. Bella had told the doctor _that? _About_ him?_

"Edward and I have discussed Bella's treatment plan, and we both agree that Bella needs to heal without feeling the added...pressure...of all of his expectations, of the wedding..."

Jacob felt himself deflate again. So, once again, here was _Cullen_, popping his pale, lifeless face into the picture, _always in the way._

"He and his siblings will be leaving for an extended trip out of the country for a few months, until Bella is feeling better and ready to take part in planning the festivities."

_Festivities._ Now that was a strange word to describe draining someone dry and turning them into a bloodsucker!

And then the wolf in Jacob felt-smelled it. Fear. And upheaval. Something had rattled the good doctor to the core, and the scent emanated from him from across the desk like a gradually brightening florescent bulb.

"Edward and I have agreed that you are the best candidate to help Bella manage her treatments, and that we would both be very grateful to you if you do." Carlisle paused, and reached for a thick sheaf of papers at the corner of his desk.

_Hmm._ Perhaps that was the crux of it. Traditional western medicine had somehow failed the brilliant and learned Dr. Cullen, and now all he had to depend upon was Jacob's loving impulses towards Bella to see his patient respond.

Carlisle continued, unaware that he was being observed with such acuity.

"Here are the plans I've laid out for a considerable investment to improve the conditions and management of the Quileute clinic on the reservation. These papers were drawn up by my accountant and outline a series of endowments that will be given to your tribal council, under our direction, so that they might..."

"You don't need to do that, Dr. Cullen," Jacob said quickly. "I'll do it for free. I don't--"

Carlisle held up his hand. The boy needed to understand that this was a transaction, not a favor.

"Edward had some concern that you might take the task we're asking of you to mean that he was relinquishing Bella to your care permanently. We all want what's best for Bella, I know you do, Jacob... She doesn't need the added stress of mistaking your attentions as anything other than purely... altrusitic. When he returns, we would both appreciate it if there is as little confusion on that matter as possible."

Jacob's face was a mask of attentiveness, but inside a rage was building.

"We can offer," Carlisle continued, with a tone of unconscious condescension, "many things that Bella needs and desires in terms of lifestyle and education, and our family intends to see to it that she is happy."

All at once it became clear to Jacob, as his seething mind watched from a position far above the room, that he was to play the role of "lil' injun mammy" for _Cullen's_ benefit. While outwardly appearing respectful, Carlisle had made it clear by his tone of voice and turn of phrase that he found Jacob and the Quileutes financially and organizationally wanting, even under-educated. Jacob was to be the humble but noble savage whose services could be bought for a few pieces of gold.

"I hope that you will accept our offer as a great service you would be doing for your community."

As though from a great distance, Jacob felt himself nod.

"I have given Bella all the instructions she'll need to bring her back to health. I will suggest to her that she share some of these with you at our next appointment, and I hope you will do what you can, but only at her request."

Bella. Sick and despondent. And Carlisle was offering him a way to help her, something that _Cullen_, for his own twisted and obtuse reasons, could not do. Bella needed Jacob to be there for her, to be her hero. God, he loved her so much. And that was what all of this boiled down to, in the end. He would do anything, really _everything_, for Bella.

Even this.

"You have my word, sir."

"Good. Then we are agreed." Carlisle extended his ashen palm to Jacob, and the young man took it, returning the handshake with a firm grip.

**A/N: And off Edward goes into the sunset, Jake nipping at his heels. Thanks for reading! Post a review for this chapter (anonymous reviews enabled), and if you're registered user, you'll receive a bonafide, super-steamy preview of Chapter 5! **


	7. Chapter 5 Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

**Title: 1001 Jacobian Nights**

**Author: Amanda Wilder**

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. Original situations and dialogue property of the author. Unauthorized duplication prohibited.**

**Pairing: Jacob/Bella**

**Story: AU; MA**

**A/N: Ok, this is the part where we recap and clarify a few things before plunging headlong into the fun stuff. Jacob and Bella are both 17 in this fic, and will most definitely be together throughout the story. Edward will have his own set of adventures, but not with Bella. **

**Storytelling is a great hobby and an ego-rush when chapters are published and appear like magic on this site, but none of that compares to the friendship and nutty-wonderful banter I enjoy with my Alpha-girls aowalison, little furry cannibals, BellaFlan and Pavarti. All of them had a hand in this chapter (I'm not sure, but the other hand may have been busy elsewhere...) and the extent of my gratitude for their assistance exceeds the capabilities of the English language. Links to their stories are in my Favorites; go check'em out!**

* * *

**1001 Jacobian Nights -- Chap. 5 -- Sheep in Wolf's Clothing**

"Bella? Can I come in?" Jacob could hear her sniffling just beyond the bedroom door, the scent of her tears and anguish assaulting his sensitive nostrils. His palms itched to hold her.

"If I can't come in, will you come out?"

* * *

He had caught a ride back to the house with Charlie, the police station just a mile's hike from the hospital. While he could have phased to wolfen form and been to her home in minutes, he wanted plenty of time to think and to gather as much information about Bella's current situation as possible. Seated next to him behind the wheel of the cruiser, Charlie had given him an earful.

Late last evening, apparently, Rosalie had phoned Bella briefly to inform her that Edward was leaving the country, indefinitely. The entire Cullen household was in an uproar, and Rose, in her own inimitable fashion, had made it clear that Bella had been the root cause and catalyst of the crisis, before abruptly hanging up. Bella had collapsed in tears, a torrent of self-hatred pouring from her lips.

_If only she could have..._

_If only she hadn't..._

Charlie could not have found a more sympathetic ear in Jacob as he listed Edward's crimes against Bella's heart. The conversation had taken a swift, and uncharacteristically vengeful bent, with both men heartily agreeing that Edward was safer out of the country than had he stayed within its borders.

Treaty or no treaty, this young woman's heart, so dear to them both, was not something to be trifled with.

For years, Charlie had watched Jacob and his friends grow to be men under Sam's careful tutelage, and believed fervently in the good that came from enlisting the help of wolves. While the Cullens stood idly by as a rogue vampire had gathered a bloodthirsty band of newborns, wreaking havoc on the human inhabitants of northern Washington, Sam had organized a wide-reaching network of werewolf packs amongst neighboring tribes. Their combined forces had eliminated the threat in a matter of days.

Charlie had always been less than impressed with Forks' own coven of vampires, who, with the exception of Carlisle, seemed to exude an arrogant passivity towards anything remotely resembling work. While it was arguably commendable that the Cullens were vegetarians, there was also recent evidence to suggest that endangered species such as grizzly bears and lynx were dwindling in the area, a fact anyone with a conscience might find troubling. Charlie also suspected that the coven had been hunting mountain lions without first obtaining permits, throwing the predator-harvest count off at the state department of Wild Game Control.

As a public service officer, Charlie had attended his share of diversity training workshops over the years; from a professional point of view, he treated the vampires and werewolves with necessary impartiality. Having vampires move into the neighborhood was fine with him on the surface of things, but -- and here Charlie had to give in to his more prejudicial, gut instincts -- having one date and marry his daughter was another thing entirely.

While any reason was good enough to see his daughter parted with Edward, Charlie was particularly gratified that Jacob was actively working his way into the competition for her hand. He and Sam had covertly encouraged the cub in his affections for Bella, so when Jacob informed him of his emergency meeting with Carlisle that morning, Charlie had nodded curtly, his thick, dark mustache hiding a smile. He was much less surprised than Jacob that the doctor and his family were unable -- or unwilling, in Edward's case -- to help his daughter.

"Do whatever you need to do to help heal her, Jacob, she needs you," Charlie had said, firmly. "You have my blessing," he added, fixing the young wolf with a meaning-laden glare.

* * *

Jacob shifted from foot to foot, his head tilted against the doorframe. The hours spent in formal clothes to visit Carlisle had begun to chafe on him, and he longed to shuck his shoes and take his shirt off.

"Bella?"

The door opened suddenly, and Jacob was hardly prepared for what he saw. To all appearances, Bella had slept in her clothes, her hair a snarled and greasy mess. Her eyes were almost swollen shut with crying, long rivulets of mucus running from her nose onto her shirt. Body shaking and hands hanging limply at her sides, she looked as though her heart had literally been ripped from her body.

"Baby...." In one move, he swept her into his arms and onto the bed. At his touch, she had burst into a fresh round of dry, hacking sobs, but had not resisted his embrace.

"_Jake...Edwards's gone...!"_

"Here..." He tugged off his shirt, warm with perspiration, and dabbed at her face. It felt better to have one less layer separating them. She pressed the shirt to her nose and blew hard, still crying.

"_He left...I drove him away...!"_

"Shhhh..."

He held her to his bare chest, gently rocking her in his lap. His anger at the promise Carlisle had extracted from him, his wrath towards _Cullen_, his shared fury with Charlie at the torment Bella had suffered, all melted in the knowledge that she was safe in his arms, that he now had all the time and freedom he needed to truly impart his love to her.

She seemed comfortable being so close to him, and so he simply held her patiently, mindfully present to her appalling condition.

Deep within the whirlpool of her spinning mind, Bella strove to remember the last time anyone had held her so tenderly. Her father had always kept his distance; she had never been the sort of child to be bounced on his knee or given piggy-back rides. A pat on the back had sufficed in lieu of hugs and kisses. She wondered if there had ever been a time when her unconscious quest for simple physical affection from her father had ever been satisfied.

The last few months with Edward had also taken their toll. The wealthy, erudite and stunningly handsome vampire had been her first real boyfriend, and as such had left a nearly-indelible mark on her feminine psyche. Had this god-like blue-blood ever been attracted to her, wanted her in the same way she had wanted him? Always cringing and withdrawing whenever he touched her, he had impressed upon her the conviction that she was undesirable, even irritating, each and every time he had pushed her away.

These fleeting thoughts brought her back to the present: the blissful sensation of lying in Jacob's overheated lap -- _cuddled against his bare chest_ -- awakened a place in her dazed mind that longed for more..._of this_...whatever it was.

The shaking that racked her body slowed, then began again in hard jolts, a wail from deep within her chest forcing its way through her trembling lips. Jake's scent, his touch, his powerful, all-encompassing warmth was freeing the last hard wedge of grief that held her heart and being open to Edward, and even in the wake of the previous evening's events, there was a strong sense of liberation, even deliverance, that gathered force within her as a result. As the last hard wave of tears and shivering ran through her, Bella felt..._relieved._

She lay panting in Jacob's arms, half-conscious and twitching with exhaustion.

Jacob watched her closely, an inward shudder gripping his heart. He had borne witness to this broken vision of humanity before, years ago as a child, before the advent of wolves in La Push: an addict, a junkie. Bella was exhibiting all the classic symptoms of withdrawal. Edward's sudden departure would have put her mind in an acutely fragile state, this Jacob understood; one that would not respond readily to logic or verbal persuasion. He held her silently as the tears continued to seep from her eyes, her body warming to his within the searing enclosure of his arms.

The draw to touch her was instinctual, without expectation or conscious reason.

Softly, he kissed her creased forehead. Bella sighed, relaxing minutely. He pressed his lightly-parted lips to the corner of her red-rimmed eyes, tasting salt and despair, allowing his mouth to linger there. She took a deep breath and exhaled, settling more deeply into his embrace. He brushed his lips, as lightly as shadows, against the puffy swell of her closed eyelids. Her breath slowed and the trembling subsided.

Gently, so gently, Jacob dipped the tip of his tongue to follow the line of her lashes, drawing the salty fluids there into his mouth, drinking in her scent and sadness, softly lathing the tears away.

Bella lost herself in the tenderness of his warm mouth, the intimate sensations of his touch on her troubled face methodically massaging the tension from her eyes, her forehead, her mind. The rhythm of his tongue sweeping smoothly along her tender eyelids, soothing as it did her jangled, knotted self-recriminations, lulled her into tranquility.

_She felt wanted.... _

_Cared for...._

_Loved..._.

Serenity flooded her being. She floated for what seemed like hours in his arms, weightless, mesmerized by his lavish, intimate display of devotion. As her chest continued to release a few more stuttered heaves, Bella eased into slumber, the warm caress of Jacob's breath, lips and tongue balming her skin.

* * * * * * *

Deep in sleep, Bella tossed and turned in the dark. Jacob's open mouth seemed to span her entire torso now, his soft beard tickling her skin. His vast, wet and very warm tongue continued to massage her body as it had her eyes and face seemingly moments before; long, moist caresses that burned her skin as it swept along her bare breasts in thick, heated swirls around her nipples. His breath came in torrid, humid blasts which reached from her shoulders down the length of her torso, enveloping her in his exotic scent.

Not the scent of man, no...

_The scent of a beast..._

A bright image briefly glinted in her mind, a great creature -- with the head of a wolf, joined with the nude and powerful body of a man -- cradling her pale, naked body in his muscled arms.

....~ ! ~...

Senses humming in dream-shrouded ecstasy, Bella moaned, reaching out to touch him.

She stroked Jacob's massive jaw as he licked her, running her hands through his bristled beard, his fur, and down into the long, thick wolfen pelt covering his shoulders, body warm and muscled underneath his coat. At her touch, the beast rolled its eyes to meet her gaze, face morphing to reveal Jacob's familiar, wide, happy grin, then back again to the feral muzzle of his wolfself.

_Touch me..._

His head dipped once more to explore her body. Each wandering sweep of his tongue along her tender breasts ignited her flesh, awakening dormant arousal everywhere on her body. The length of her arms followed the trajectory of his head as his long, gentle tongue moved downwards with slow, heated, languid strokes to massage her abdomen, hips and thighs.

His hair was softest along his great ears, velvety fur warm and plush against her palms and clenching fingers.

_Jacob...oh my Jacob...yes..._

She reached the first glorious peal of carnal release as his head slid between her thighs to better lathe her sex and aching clitoris, furred muzzle parting her knees and nudging them open. Crying out in pleasure, she spread her naked sex to him fully, knees bent and parted to offer herself to his questing nose pressing to sniff and snuffle at her most intimate places, the warm gusts of Jacob's breath vibrating her folds.

_...~please~..._

As if in answer, the werewolf spread the burning length of his gargantuan tongue against her exposed and vulnerable sex, its slow, magnificent progress against her labia and engorged clitoris catapulting Bella into writhing cries of pleasure. He lapped at her, the gorgeous pressure of it gathering speed and force, each stroke of his tongue catching the streams of arousal that flowed from between her legs, her clitoris swelling, burning, climaxing against the broad sweep of his hunger.

_...ahhh... yes... Jacob...!_

He nestled his muzzle more deeply between her legs, soft fur rhythmically brushing her thighs as the searing tip of his tongue began to probe her wet, quivering slit. She lifted her hips to him in offering, rolling and twisting her bare skin against his great wolfen head.

_...oh god....inside me..._

His great jaws engulfed her, his glistening tongue sliding long and hard into her wet heat. _So hot, so deep, oh god, so good...._ Bella sobbed as he impaled her, the pulsing appendage filling her to the core, touching and tasting her everywhere at once.

Guided purely by instinct, the tip of Jacob's wolf-tongue found the precious, innermost nerves hidden deep within Bella's sex, stimulating her everywhere with its rapid flicks and swishes. The burning sensations he wrung from her sensitive flesh wove together inside her, her need growing unbearably acute, consuming, as she felt her whole body succumb to his raging, sensual caress within her.

_Please... inside me... OHGOD, JACOB...YES...._

Stroking her deeply from the inside, slithering inward, sliding outward, his wolf-tongue's searing girth coiled and swiveled repeatedly against the shuddering, clenching walls of her sex, forcibly bringing and holding her suspended in an ear-shattering, full-body climax with its thoroughly merciless, deliciously incessant intrusion of her folds.

_JACOBDON'TSTOPMOREJACOB... OHH!_

Bella flailed and screamed. The power of her pleasured outcry jolted her awake, panting and misted with perspiration.

Eyes wide, she found herself quite alone in her darkened room, no sign of the brute, impassioned _Otherness,_ this manwolf who had pleasured her so intimately.

Bella gaped, sweat pouring over her rigid nipples and shaking body. Her sex continued to pulse beneath her trembling hands as she relived the astonishingly vivid visions in her mind, her panties soaked through and dripping.

_It had all been a dream -- a wonderful, incredible dream... Jacob....?!_

Gratefully downing the glass of water by her bedside, she threw on a robe and crept down the stairs to the living room. The pale light of early morning cast its rays on the couch, illuminating the prone figure of Jacob, fast asleep upon it. He raised his sleepy face as she approached, his sheet slipping as he leaned up on one elbow, revealing the glossy brown contours of his shoulders.

"You ok, Bells?" he whispered groggily. He had left her curled and sleeping on her bed hours ago, the severity of her emotional suffering suffusing his lungs with her grief. His great concern for her had overrode any pleasure he might have gotten from the task of removing her jeans and shirt before tucking her in.

Now, however, the tantalizingly feminine scent emanating from her body -- sparking his over-active olfactory glands with desire -- was no longer one of unhappiness. He felt his cock stiffen involuntarily between his thighs, and was glad for the sheet that still covered him below the waist.

He had no idea what had provoked this enticing perfume of arousal that wafted from her sex so early in the morning, but he was wise enough to realize that now was not the time to make good on it. While his cock determinedly clung to other notions, it simply stood erect and leaking against his abdomen, concealed and overruled.

"You were in my dream," Bella said softly, crouching by the sofa. "Go back to sleep, I'm fine."

She was fine. Jacob collapsed back down on the couch gratefully, the mindless veil of drowsiness closing over him once more.

"What was I doing in your dream...?" His voice had slurred to a murmur.

"You were...saving me..." Bella whispered quietly, heart pounding.

Jacob could not be sure, but he thought he felt the light touch of Bella's fingers stroking his hair as he fell back into a deep, dreamless slumber.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks and warm, wolfish kisses to all intrepid readers who continue to enjoy (I hope!) this story, and especially all those moved to give me feedback/comments in their reviews, My next update will be in 10 days' time, so please try and make this one last as long as you can ; )) Post a review of **_**Sheep in Wolf's Clothing,**_** and you will receive a tasty peek into the next Jacobian Night. Let me know how you like Wolfman Jake...**


	8. Chapter 6 Hungry Like the Wolf

**1001 Jacobian Nights -- Chap 6 - Hungry Like the Wolf**

**A/N: My Alpha-readers, aowalison, little furry cannibals, BellaFlan and Pavarti are seriously wonderful. Go check out their fics, and drop them a note if you're enjoying this story.**

**Thank Pavarti for this important correction to my last installment: did I really expect Jake to go back to sleep with an erection, and Bella smelling so good right beside him, as was erroneously reported in Chapter 5? Here's what really happened: **

"You were in my dream," Bella said softly, crouching by the sofa. "Go back to sleep, I'm fine."

She was fine. Jacob collapsed back down on the couch gratefully, the mindless veil of drowsiness attempting to close over him once more.

"What was I doing in your dream...?" His voice had slurred to a murmur.

"You were...saving me..." Bella whispered quietly, heart pounding. "Thank you...."

Jacob could not be sure, but he thought he felt the gentle touch of Bella's fingers stroke his hair as he drifted back into a light, fitful doze, full sleep held in abeyance by the cloying scent of her body and the insistent, rapid pulse of arousal that coursed through his erect penis.

In a moment, she sighed lightly, stood and turned, the edge of her robe brushing his face.

He listened as she padded barefoot into the laundry room down the hall, and suddenly, a hot, vaporous draft of her feminine desire assaulted his nostrils even more compellingly than before. Jacob moaned softly, his skin crawling with restless heat, nose twitching. This could only mean one thing...

..._oh hell..._

_...her panties.._.

Bella ducked into the laundry room and shrugged out of her robe and underwear. It felt like days since she had bathed or changed her clothes. While it was much too early to start the shower and disturb the sleepers, there was no reason to go back to bed wearing a sticky bra and panty set, rank with perspiration -- not to mention the pungent, moist remnants of her recent dream. Using her panties to wipe away the warm fluids of sensuality that still clung to her vulva and inner thighs, she tossed the well-worn bits of fabric into the hamper. She'd just sleep in her robe.

Jacob listened to the sound of her bare feet on the stairs with aching senses, his heart thudding, breath rising and falling in his chest in crescendo, his cock burning to be acknowledged. He tried to close his eyes, to hold his breath, to somehow block out the beguiling scent of her sex as it closed over him like a fine, humid mist, its enticing perfume infusing his blood with an arousal so acute he began to shake with the effort of containing it.

Upstairs, he heard the sound of Bella's door close.

_It was probably wrong of him, but..._

Before he could stop himself, he was off the couch and crawling swiftly on all fours into the laundry, his rigid cock bobbing between his legs as though it longed to lead the way.

_Her panties..._

The room enclosed the dazzling scent around him, drenching him in its intensity, his cock burning and aching with desire. His arm snaked into the hamper, feeling warm, wet fabric beneath his palm, the sweet prize his for the taking. Jacob gulped and hesitated, listening with wolfen acuity to the sounds of the house. All asleep now. All good.

He drew her panties from the basket, head spinning with searing need, engulfing his face in the pure essence of the girl he loved drenching the soft, powder-blue fabric.

_Oh god...her scent...from between her legs, from her....pure, virginal cleft..._

_MINE..._

Crouching, he pressed his back onto the cold steel of the washer, drawing the moist crotch against his nose, inhaling deeply of her fragrance, his other hand gripping his throbbing cock like a vice. A stream of precum ran down the tender underside of his shaft as pleasure and relief flooded his senses.

_So beautiful..._

_In his mind's eye, he watched as Bella parted her robe for him in the living room, kneeling on the soft cushions of the couch to rest her smooth, bare thighs around his head. Naked and open to him, loving and trusting, stroking her wetness, dragging her moist fingers against his lips...so wet, so good, so close....her warm, fragrant sex inches from his lips, his tongue..._

_His cock aching, so hard with his longing to taste her, to stroke her to pleasure, to bury his head between her thighs and never leave..._

Jacob groaned, angling his muscled body downward, bare skin sliding against the cool linoleum. He stroked his stiff and swollen cock vigorously, biceps rippling with muscle under a fine layer of sweat, the other arm poised in a careful arc, trembling fingers gently pressing Bella's panties to his face, slowly massaging his lips with the damp fabric that had only moments ago swathed her so intimately. Her pheromones sizzled in his brain, throat choking with the urge to cry out.

_So very sweet...my Bella...all MINE..._

He halted his clandestine pleasures abruptly, panting, ears pricked to listen for any sign of disturbance. All asleep, all good.... For a brief moment, he considered departing to a safer place to escape discovery, perhaps deep in the woods... but no, the thought of what his wolfself might make of this precious, fragile slip of lingerie, tearing it to shreds... that would never, never do. These were his true love's panties, after all.

_Please...must taste..._

Settling himself fully prone to the floor, muscled legs bent and pushing against the aging wall, he tilted his head back and allowed his lips to part, long tongue brushing the tantalizing essence of Bella's arousal, tasting her for the first time. In a rush, his cock jerked and swelled in the fresh knowledge that she was, indeed, a virgin female, that she had recently relieved herself several times, that she was near ovulating, and she was... _very aroused...._

His mind spun in the realization that this tiny piece of fabric carried more information about his perfect, marvelous girl than he had ever previously known by scent alone.

His balls began to ache.

_Tastes...like love, like heaven..._

He could also discern her longing, her frustration, her body's intense need for pleasure, all in one gentle swipe of his tongue, and his cock began to surge in his palm with the desire to bring her to orgasm by every means possible. He shoved the panties more deeply into his mouth to stifle his escalating cries of helpless pleasure, sucking and laving the fabric with his tongue, mouth tingling, nerves flooded with the intoxication of her most intimate fluids.

_Oh god, he wanted -- needed -- to be the one to give her satisfaction, such as she had never known...only by him...only for her... _

_...she would love him...would lower her sweet, innocent body to his eager mouth, offering herself... and he would draw her to him, caressing every inch of those warm, wet, feminine folds, finding her pleasure and making it his own, his tongue swirling against her sex as she writhed above him, gripping his head, stroking his hair, crying out his name, and -- ever after --his name alone..._

_Bella...all MINE...!_

Teeth gritted against the explosion of sound that threatened to erupt from his throat, Jacob came like a geyser, shooting high over his head, hard spurts of ejaculate crashing with a wet splatter against the washer behind him. Droplets landed everywhere, his face jeweled with his own seed, naked body shaking in an effort to contain the sharp spasms that rocked it as his orgasm tore through his body. He spit the panties out onto his chest, mouth open and gasping for air.

_...god, she tastes so good..._

Staring at the ceiling above him, Jacob licked his lips, savoring the flavor of Bella, and wishing to all hell that he could steal up to her room right this instant for a second helping. So he could sample this delicacy directly, at her pleasure and with her permission, right from the original source.

* * *

Bella awoke refreshed late that morning, dazed and amazed. The sun was high in the sky, and she had slept the dreamless sleep of one who had not rested or felt inner peace for a very long time. The image that looked back at her from the bedroom mirror showed no sign of her crying jags, no darkened circles under her eyes, no glaze of terror or remorse in her shining brown eyes. She was... better? Smiling...? She searched her face for some evidence of Edward's nightmarish rejection, some trace of pain or heartache in her eyes, and found none. She looked...beautiful.

Sitting on the little stool at her vanity, she worked a comb through her tangled hair. Her face looked impossibly clear to her, blemish-less, as though her skin had been polished to a radiance that revealed her loveliness as never before. From time to time, she would pause to run a finger along her cheek, remembering the soft, gentle warmth of Jacob's tongue, transfixed by the glow that her face undeniably now reflected back at her.

Beautiful...

Even the snarled knots of her long, thick tresses did nothing to distract from the warm gleam that shown in her eyes. This is good, she thought quietly, gently tugging at her hair. I am good...

The rest of her body began a quiet but insistent clamor to be reunited with Jake, with his touch, his smell, his warmth. Perhaps some day she might draw up her courage enough to ask him to help her with Carlisle's prescription, from a friendly perspective, of course. He had seemed so naturally attuned to what she had needed the past evening....surely he would consider doing a few of the things listed, even just as a friend.

Bella squirmed at the thought of Jacob, lying on her couch earlier, his naked body barely concealed by the thin white sheet. Was it her imagination, but had he been erect under there, as boys sometimes are upon waking? Bella tried to squash the thought, unsuccessfully. Her dream earlier had been so vivid, she wasn't sure if she could ever look at her childhood friend in quite the same way ever again.

A bizarre thought occurred to her as she climbed into the shower. The film Rescue Dawn...she and Jacob had watched the Vietnam War drama some months back, and the scene in the POW camp sprung to her mind as the hot water massaged her scalp. They had kept dogs in the camp for an odd, almost perverse reason -- the prisoners needed them around to cleanse their wounds, as no other medical aid was available. The mutts had licked at their cuts and sores, and, quite counter-intuitively, the wounds were kept clean despite the conditions of the camp, and had healed.

Bella shook her head, laughing as she imagined telling Jake her crazy theory on how she somehow went to bed an ugly duckling, and woke up the following morning transformed into a lovely swan by his loving tongue. Losing her mind, was what she was doing, most definitely. And as her giggling fit escalated, she had to admit that if that's what was happening, then going crazy felt pretty good.

No amount of licking was going to bring back flesh to her bones, however, as tantalizing as the thought of Jake pressing his mouth to her entire body might be. Wet hair piled on top of her head in a dry towel, Bella took in the vision of her naked body in the bathroom's foggy mirror. Bones everywhere. Deep valleys where curves should be. Her shoulders and hips had become so angular, they looked painful. Her breasts, B-cup (B-minus if she had to be honest) always hoping to become a C, now suspiciously looked as though they had shrunk to an A-cup with her precipitous weight-loss.

So thin. Too thin. She looked hungry. And in that instant, Bella realized she was, indeed, quite hungry -- even ravenous -- for the taste of her own home cooking.

Once the bastion of one of her young life's few masteries, it had been months since she had spent any time in her own kitchen. The Cullen's preposterous obsession with feeding her, with watching her eat and drink, had rapidly become a daily occurrence as her relationship with Edward had progressed. Food -- mounds of it -- comprised of expensive delicacies, mechanically prepared to look exactly as it did in the high-end cookbooks Esme collected expressly for the purpose, always awaited her on each visit to the Cullen household.

After that first, disastrous visit to meet Edward's family, Bella learned that only anger and disappointment awaited her if she dined before arriving. Rosalie would be down her throat in an instant if Bella was ever anything but grateful that the family showed her any attention whatsoever.

Never one to court an audience, Bella cringed under the constant onslaught of comments from her observers as the Cullens lined the long, unused dining-room table, calling out a running commentary to each other, much as one would when watching a football game on television.

"_Look, she's trying the avocado-truffle dip!"_

"_I love the way her mouth moves when she chews, so expressive! I can almost taste the pear demi-glace on that ham!"_

"_Have another bite of the steak, Bella, we had it flown in fresh from Kobe. Darling, don't you love the look in her eyes when she swallows?!"_

Just as Edward had become obsessed with watching Bella sleep, his family adored observing the spectacle of Bella eating what they, in their minds, had painstakingly prepared for her. By contrast, their vicarious pleasure at her "enjoyment" of these meals bound her stomach in knots.

One would think the Cullens, so proud of their own vegetarianism, would be of a mind to honor Bella's. Their dishes, so extravagantly prepared, often included meat, which Bella had gamely chewed all the while fighting nausea, only to vomit up the concoction later when no one was looking. To refuse, she discovered early on, created an entirely new brand of trauma. As many times as Bella had broadly hinted that they needn't go to the trouble of cooking for her, the Cullens were not keen on having their generosity refused.

"You break Alice's heart every time you turn down a second helping of dessert," Edward unfailingly reminded her. "She loves to see you indulge in things she's never tasted herself. It makes her feel so good, so truly human again, to see you enjoy yourself. Don't be so selfish, and deny her."

And so, Bella had put on a brave face -- this was her new family, after all -- and gradually grew accustomed to consuming without tasting, with putting on a convincing display of pleasure, and of eliminating the contents of her stomach at the earliest opportunity. At the time, it had all seemed very logical and manageable; she was to become a vampire soon enough, so shouldn't she partake in the world's finest cuisine while she had the chance? Besides, they always went to such trouble and expense, wasn't it the least she could do to conceal the unappetizing truth?

In this roundabout fashion, she began to regard the charade as a necessary part of pleasing Edward, and by extension, the Cullens, while at the same time robbing her body of the nutrients it needed to survive. At the time, it had all seemed part and parcel to leaving her old ways behind. She was going to die soon, anyways, and be transformed into a vampire, so what had her deteriorating health mattered to her, really, in the face of eternal love?

With Edward eliminated from the picture, however, she now found her natural hunger returning as she dried her hair. What a terrible waste it all had amounted to, in the end. Food to feed twenty or more at each sitting, while Bella could barely choke down half a portion. She had finally resorted to hauling home the leftovers each evening, only to watch Charlie grudgingly pick over the exotic, alien fare, looking for something recognizably edible for his dinner. Jake had flat-out refused to eat any of it, reeking as it did of the vampire stench, his delicate senses offended to the fiber of his being by its mere presence in her house.

_What fun it would be to cook tonight, in my own kitchen,_ Bella thought. There she could find her way back to some semblance of normalcy, some semblance of herself that she recognized.

A few Pop-Tarts and a cup of coffee later, she made her way down the road to her favorite vegetable stand, a tiny mom-and-pop affair run by a pair of long-time Forks residents. Some potatoes, carrots, peppers -- and, after a moment's squeamish hesitation -- a brace of jackrabbits later, Bella had all she needed to make a mighty tasty stew.

For Charlie, yes, but for Jacob too. They had been too long without her cooking, and she wanted to make something truly special to celebrate her return as kitchen goddess. Was it wrong to blame Edward for his innate inability to appreciate her abilities there, when cooking was something Bella was truly passionate about? No, Bella was good and angry that he was constitutionally unable to enjoy and compliment her feats of culinary artistry, remaining ever ignorant of her bold attempts to improve recipes, never understanding her passion to put her own personal spin on old favorites, making them truly something to savor.

It would feel great to bang the pots and pans around this afternoon, bang out some of this frustration at his having dimmed her creative spark these last many months. And the rabbits, well, that was certainly something new to add to the pot.

"They eat everything we grow," the farmer had told her. "I used to trap'em and give'em to the dogs, but the missus got tired of all the carcasses in the yard. Might as well sell'em, she said. They're nice and fresh, I just skinned and gutted'em for you."

Bella swallowed a moment of horror at the thought of dead bunnies. But a bigger part of her enjoyed the idea of making a meal from something so earthy, so immediately of nature. It also made her feel brave and rebellious! She burst into laughter on her way back to the house, imagining Alice's horrified expression at the thought of serving up something so ....rough, so unrefined and plebeian.

Hours later, pots banged and vegetables mercilessly chopped with freshly sharpened knives, Bella was high as a kite and back in her element. Browned to perfection in the oven, the meat filled the house with its pungent, musky odor. She carefully ladled out a portion of the stew for herself, _sans lapin,_ into a separate pot, then completed the stew, spicing it plentifully for Charlie and Jacob. She smiled, pulling a pair of beautifully rounded, freshly-baked loaves of bread out of the oven. It was so gratifying to see her skills had not rusted over with disuse.

Jacob's note on the kitchen table that morning had indicated he would be along to see her after school and the packmeet, which meant he would be arriving any time now. Bella fairly bounced on the balls of her feet with excitement in anticipation of the look of delight he would surely give her when he realized she had actually made them dinner again, after all this time.

She imagined them both at the table as she set it with large spoons and paper napkins. Nothing fancy: no heirloom silver, hand-embroidered linens or custom centerpieces filled with exotic flowers. Just Bella, Charlie and Jacob, sharing the evening meal....just like old times. _Before Edward... before the Cullens..._

Bella smiled to herself as she sat and waited for Jake, smelling the stew simmering on the stove. She was feeling very good indeed.

And more than a little turned on.

* * *

**A/N: Just for the record, I'm not really a Cullen-hater, but for some reason I'm really enjoying knocking them around in this fic. How's it going out there, are we having fun yet? Let me know whatcha think:**


	9. Chapter 7 Outtake Lemon

**Chap 7 -- The Outtake Lemon**

**This update includes a Special Lemon Offer to my readers, read onwards for details:**

* * *

**Hi folks! Don't worry, this story is not on hiatus. I'm working on three chapters at once right now, and have my hands full of fun stuff for you to read once they're done. Chalk it up to being a first-time fic writer, I'm still getting my sea legs! It'll be a week or so until I get it sorted out.**

**However -- if I am reading my reviews correctly -- some of you are more than ready for a Jacob/Bella Lemon by now. I know, me too!**

**So here's the deal: I have a completed, delicious, lascivious J/B 3,000-word Outtake Lemon all written and ready to go, and it's really too creamy-naughty to miss. It takes place in the 1001 Universe, but there can only be one "first-time" between Jake and Bella, and that one's already written.**

**All you have to do in order to read the aforementioned Outtake Lemon is to go back and **_**review every chapter **_**of 1001 Jacobian Nights so far, all eight chapters. If you've already reviewed some of them, just go back and review the rest. When you're done, hit the review button on this chapter and say "All done!" or something like that, and I'll send you the chapter. No waiting, instant gratification guaranteed.**

**For you non-registered reviewers...just PM me with your email address (spell out "at" and "dot") and I'll send it to you directly. Simple as that!**

**AW**

* * *

**What they're saying about the OUTTAKE LEMON:**

**"WOW"**

**"This is so fantastic. I can't believe I survived reading this, that I didn't combust!"**

**"To say that was hot would be misleading. That was explosive on so many levels. It broke the scale, actually!" **

_**and...**_

**"Well... HOT DAMN! That was well worth the review trouble! Wow. I think that may have been the best lemon I have read - four gold stars for you, lovely! Thanks for the outtake! It rocked huge!"**


	10. Chapter 8 Rivers and Tides

**Title: 1001 Jacobian Nights**

**Author: Amanda Wilder**

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. Original situations and dialogue property of the author. Unauthorized duplication prohibited.**

**Pairing: Jacob/Bella**

**Story: AU; MA**

**A/N: Thanks once again to everyone who met the Outtake Lemon challenge, and left me all sort of interesting and funny reviews! Due to response, I'll likely offer another, similar outtake offer in the future, so review each chapter now or later, your choice.**

**I also really want to thank my team of pre-reading Alphas for their excellent suggestions and general Jake-lustiness: aowalison, for her non-stop sweetness, little furry cannibals for her fine eye towards romance, BellaFlan for her hawk's-eye for typos, and Pavarti for sparking a writerly epiphany.**

**....................................................................**

**1001 Jacobian Nights - Chapter 8 - **_**Rivers and Tides**_

Seated at Bella's kitchen table, Jacob felt drugged. The wide smile that had plastered his face for the last twenty minutes showed no sign of fading, and his drooping eyelids and dilated pupils gave him the appearance of a practiced stoner well into his third or fourth hit from a bong. For months, he had been shoveling food into his mouth and swallowing it, barely tasted; tonight, his jaws worked with the slow, graceful movements of a waking dreamer as he chewed, savored, and chewed again, each mouthful a revelation, a balm, an ecstasy.

The food was that good.

This delicious stupor had begun the moment he had pulled up to the Swan residence, the vapors of Bella's novel concoction closing over him like the enticing smoke of an exotic, irresistible incense. He had followed the scent, eyes closed so as to better appreciate its exquisite aroma, all the way up the porch steps, through the door and into the kitchen, its siren call drawing him closer as a ravenous hunger drew up from his belly and commanded his every movement.

He had all but elbowed Bella away from the pot as she stood stirring it to thrust his head inside, inhaling deeply. Whatever this was, it must be tasted, consumed, and the sooner the better. His eyes had watered as Bella had hurriedly pushed an enormous, steaming bowl in front him at the table -- one of her larger mixing bowls, no doubt -- his mouth streaming with anticipation as the first mouthful reached his lips. And oh god, what a mouthful it was.... the moisture that had pooled at the corners of his eyes threatened to roll down his face unimpeded as the first chunk of meat met its end between his teeth.

He could not control the deep, ecstatic groan that issued from his throat. It rumbled through the kitchen, and was soon joined by another, and then another. The flavor seemed to evolve and intensify as he rolled the glorious substance around in his mouth: tangy, succulent, wild, comforting; a complete and extraordinary gastronomic pleasure that infused his body with delirious intoxication.

Yes, a man could die happy after a meal such as this. If a prisoner found himself on death row, or perhaps a sailor marooned for life on a desert island, this would be the very dish that brought a glimmer of hope to the condemned. Hell, just the smell of it alone would probably bring a man back from the dead!

It was only after the first sumptuous, dazzling half-dozen spoonfuls -- Bella's large serving spoon gripped in his fist -- that he was able to focus his bleary eyes on her radiant face. Blinking through his euphoria, he could manage only to briefly fix upon her a look meant to wordlessly communicate his appreciation before returning his attention to the masterpiece in front of him.

Bella had been watching him intently, the task of slicing and serving the bread momentarily forgotten. She had fully expected Jake to be bouncy and enthusiastic at the prospect of a home-cooked meal; she had never expected this.

His full lips and long tongue fascinated her as they never had before, his mouth slowly, tenderly winding around the spoon and making love to the stew she had prepared him.

The groaning began again, in earnest, and seemed to travel throughout Jake's body as he sat hunched over the bowl. Every so often, he would lean back in his chair, the same mindless grin lighting his expression, eyes closed and throat exposed, his Adam's apple bobbing with each deliberately slow swallow.

Every time he arched his back, stretching, savoring the stew, his t-shirt rode up to reveal the muscular clefts of his abdominals and hips. The sight left Bella's breath shallow in her lungs as her eyes travelled from his face and neck, down the rippled lines of his abdominals, resting at last on the rounded bulge at the apex of his thighs.

Fascinated and aroused, she could not help but imagine herself seated there in front of him on the tabletop, in place of the bowl. His smooth, eager lips slid along the edge of the spoon so reverently, with an almost orgasmic delight, his handsome face misted with perspiration. The ache between her legs that had distracted her all afternoon was escalating with a vengeance. The thought of his mouth on her body, his face lost in the same rapturous expression, sent a bright shiver of heat through her abdomen.

Of the dozens, perhaps hundreds of meals she had cooked him in the past, never before had she seen him eat with such measured intensity. Jacob's bare, muscled arm had slowly made its way around the bowl as he ate, until at last he held it clutched to his chest possessively. The sight made the corners of Bella's mouth twitch with amused endearment, all the while imagining his arm sliding around her waist in much the same way. The vision of them naked, so entwined, made her sex pulse with fresh intensity.

Bella tried to clear her head, focusing on the matter at hand. Jake was looking curiously in her direction.

"Please, Bella?" Jake slid the bowl in her direction, doing his best, wide-eyed impression of a begging puppy.

_He likes the stew! I knew he would. _

"Another helping, coming up!"

It was, perhaps, a small satisfaction to be able to give someone pleasure, and yet Edward -- really, none of the Cullens -- had ever been so effusive towards her. Indeed, Bella had often felt helpless and completely at a loss to make any of them happy, or to cause them to lose themselves with delight.

Placing the full bowl in front of him, Bella basked in the look of gratitude Jake gave her before continuing his meal. There it was, the look of love she'd never seen in Edward's eyes, a true appreciation of her, rather than a probing, haunted appraisal. Edward never looked truly happy, consumed as ever with the fight to quell his urge to kill her; his inner torment never even left his eyes when he told her he loved her. Could she really gamble on ever seeing such open, unguarded caring in his eyes, even after her change?

And here was Jake, his face and body exuding shock, amazement and bliss all at once. Bella felt waves of power and pride at having caused such an ebullient reaction in another being. Meeting his gaze across the table, she felt truly..._loved._

_How had she never really noticed his beauty before? At seventeen, Jake was at the cusp of manhood, his face still possessed of the sweet tenderness of a sensitive boy, his body glistening with the leonine grace of a powerful man. _

When his moans of pleasure subsided, but before he took another bite, Bella could not resist extracting from him some sort of verbal acknowledgement of her less immodest observations.

"So, I take it you like dinner?"

Jake shook his head drunkenly, his jaw working, his brain attempting to form words. His handsome face glowed; Bella could not wrest her eyes from it.

"This...is not _dinner_," he slurred. Filling his spoon once more and bringing it to his lips, he let out a great sigh of utter contentment.

"_This, Bella, is a feast."_

_............................................._

Charlie wasn't sure what to make of the undeniably emotional scene he found waiting for him when he arrived home from patrol. Jake was holding Bella's hand over the table, and seemed to be begging her to tell him something. Bella was laughing -- laughing! -- Charlie hadn't seen her laugh so freely in months. She seemed to be teasing Jake about something, but their voices were so low he couldn't make out what.

The moment was swiftly lost to his imagination as Bella jumped up from the table to greet him. She looked happy... and suspiciously mischievous.

"You hungry, Dad? I made something new. I'm calling it Rascal Stew."

"Rascal Stew, huh? What's it made with, rascals?"

"Yeah, in a way it is! Sit down, there's one bowl left, and it has your name on it."

Charlie watched in amusement as Jake patted his stomach. The boy looked like he had scored the winning touchdown at the Superbowl, been handed a million dollars, and then pounced on by a pack of cheerleaders all in the same hour.

"Good stuff?"

"Yeah...amazing. She won't tell me what's in it, though."

"Well, Jake, you have to let a woman have her secrets."

........................................................

With Charlie fed and out the door mumbling something about being late for (apparently, another) dinner waiting for him at Sue's, Bella and Jake settled down in front of the widescreen to watch Andy Goldsworthy's _Rivers and Tides._ Jake had already watched it once at home on his tiny TV set, in order to write a paper about the unusual film for his Social Studies class on the topic of "Man and Nature."

"This guy is incredible, Jake. I can't believe how he just reaches into the woods, grabs a few leaves and rocks, and then creates these amazing sculptures... if that's what you'd call them."

Bella was sitting on the couch, Jake tucked between her knees on the floor in front of her. He was still radiating the same blissful vibe he had from eating Bella's stew, and as a result, she felt drawn to be as physically near him as possible.

"Yeah, and then he just sits back and lets the elements have their way with them. It's pretty cool."

Jake tucked a pillow behind his neck, settling his shoulders more deeply between Bella's slender thighs. The images were remarkable, blown up on the giant screen in front of them. "I knew you'd like it."

The two watched, spellbound, as a river rose to claim a deftly formed spiral of driftwood the artist had made, sending it spinning out into the current to slowly disintegrate.

"It's even beautiful as it moves, as it changes..." Bella's fingers snaked up into Jacob's smooth, dark hair, massaging his scalp. So soft, so warm...

"Time's not always our enemy, is it...."

"Mm hmm..."

Bella's hands had moved to rub Jacob's ears between her fingertips, and as always, his left leg began to bounce along the floor in response. It was a very good day to be a werewolf.

"Like the Cullens, you know? They don't change at all..."

Bella stifled a giggle at the sight of Jake's leg, jerking with pleasure as she scratched behind his ears. Sometimes it was just too much fun to resist bringing out his inner canine.

"Don't they kind of get frozen in one spot when they change, like their personalities and stuff? It's like, with the Cullens, whatever impulses they had just before they died, stuck with them. They all seem to have one-track minds."

Bella stiffened marginally.

"Jasper changed. He went from drinking from humans to animals."

She had been quick to argue with him, as usual, but her voice was nearly devoid of her habitual defensiveness against Jacob's frequent, barbed observations regarding her now-absent friends.

Correspondingly, Jake's normally knee-jerk response to her defense of the coven was uncharacteristically gentle. With a belly full of food, Bella's hands in his hair, and Edward Cullen literally 10,000 miles away, he was in the mood to be generous, but still felt inclined to make his point heard. This time, however, he almost sounded to Bella as though he felt sorry for them.

"Yeah, there is that, but what else is there to choose about their lives beyond that one choice, whether or not to kill humans? Their lives are defined by that one value, that one decision: to become a vegetarian, or to be a murderer."

Jacob sighed dismissively before continuing.

"The Cullens are different from other vampires, but not that different. You'd think that a race with all that time on their hands would create something new, something incredible, but all they manage to do is follow the tides of human society, waiting for it to produce some novel way of entertaining them."

Bella had been silent as he spoke, thinking. Alice, with her clothes and parties.... Esme's decorating.... Rosalie and Emmett, either on their way to the bedroom with some new toy, or just coming out...

The man on the widescreen was wrestling with the wind, trying to prevent it from blowing away an elaborately interwoven screen he had created with twigs and leaves, all of which swung tenuously from a tree branch. Even half-finished, his odd, organic creation was both captivating in its complexity, and heart-breakingly ephemeral.

"Edward's been creative." she protested weakly. "He wrote me that piano piece..."

Jake shifted against her knees, finally betraying his residual annoyance with that particular _Cullen_.

"And he's been around for what, a hundred years now, haven't they all? Right. What do they do with all that time, Bella?"

Bella groaned; there really was no good answer to that.

"They, um, go to high school a lot. They have this big picture frame at the house, full of graduation caps..."

Bella surprised herself by joining in Jake's laughter as the vivid image sprung to their minds. Jake nuzzled her knee, chuckling, leaving a warm impression there with his cheek.

_It was all too painfully true. She and the Cullens would always be in high school or someplace like Dartmouth, dependent upon the whims of human culture to provide them a backdrop for their existence for all eternity, never fully participating in it. Matriculating over and over again...._

"Oh-hohhh, man, wouldn't that be fun, going to high school twenty, thirty more times?" Jake gestured towards the mountainous, tumbling pile of books and assignments on the coffee table. For weeks now, a teacher's aide from the high school had been dropping it off at the station for Charlie to bring home to her.

"You have a lot of homework piled up there, Bella. Sure, it'll be hell going through all of that, to get it done, but then you'll actually _be done,_ and then get to move on to something else. As a human, at least all you have to do is finish it once, and then it's over with."

Jake shifted his shoulders, bringing Bella's legs over his chest to rub her feet. She had been standing for the better part of the day, and his large, warm hands rubbing away the soreness there was pleasantly interfering with her train of thought.

Leaning back on the couch with a sigh, she thought about Forks High. All the Laurens and Mikes out there, in every future high school or college the Cullens would attend. For eternity.

_Ugh..._

"What about your creativity, Bella -- who knows what any of us will be up to in ten years? Look at this crazy guy with his mud puddles and his rocks." Mr. Goldworthy and a friend were madly scampering around a beach, creating a giant egg out of cracked boulders. "There's a whole world of stuff out there, waiting to be messed with."

"Ummm...." His hands had made their way to her left ankle, the pressure of his fingers working its magic on her tendons. She had been so stiff and achy for months and months, she longed to have her body feel this good all the time.

"There's....cooking. I know I'm good at that...."

The mere thought of Bella's cooking lost forever to the ethers was enough to make Jacob want to hang himself.

"See there, there are so many things you'd never get to cook! You'd never get to taste your own cooking again either, if you became a vampire; it would just be blood from then on out. What if you went through the change and then didn't want to eat the only item on the menu?"

Bella considered the prospect seriously, for the first time. God, how she hated blood, the sight, the smell...

"Yeah, you're right...that would _really suck..."_

_............................................................................_

**A/N: If you like beautiful movies about artistic genius, check out **_**Rivers and Tides: Andy Goldsworthy Working with Time. **_**It's even on Netflix, for your modern, movie-viewing pleasure. Speaking of modern pleasures, if you thought I did a convincing job with the dialogue or anything else in this chapter, shoot me a review. ; )) **


	11. Chapter 9 Native Tongue Part 1

**Title: 1001 Jacobian Nights**

**Author: Amanda Wilder**

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. Original situations and dialogue property of the author. Unauthorized duplication prohibited.**

**Pairing: Jacob/Bella**

**Story: AU; MA**

**HOT OFF THE PRESS: BellaFlan's hilarious Becoming Bella Swan has been nominated for Best Bella in the Gigglesnort awards! Show your pack loyalty and appreciation now, and hop on over to ****www dot gigglesnortawards**** (dot) mmmboptastic (dot) com (slash) nominations (dot) php and vote for it starting May 20th!**

**A/N: Thanks, everyone, for your praise, feedback and questions. I'll be addressing the white elephant in the room -- Carlisle's prescription -- in later chapters.**

**Until then, real, live, lemony fun to follow. Have your favorite toy/individual (or both) at ready.**

**1001 Jacobian Nights, Chapter 9 -- Native Tongue, Part 1**

Bella found that it was getting more and more difficult to formulate a cogent argument for life as a Cullen as Jake's strong hands kneaded her calves, her legs vibrating from the stimulation, skin warming to his touch.

"Am I distracting you? I can stop if you like," Jake teased, noting her extended silence and the growing weight of her thighs against his shoulders as she relaxed.

"Mmmm no, it's good, it's great...Carlisle says I'm supposed to get lots of massage."

Jacob snorted at the mention of the leech-doctor's name. He'd show her some real medicine, right now. _Rivers and Tides_ had come to its end, and the screen before them went dark.

"Really now, 'lots of massage'? That's pretty vague, Bella, how am I supposed to know how much? What if I administer the wrong dosage?"

Teasing again, he was always teasing her about something. Bella giggled as Jake stroked the underside of her arch with his finger. She tried to pull her foot away, but he had her ankle firmly gripped with the other hand.

"How's that? Did you like that kind of massage? Or maybe yew neebee some Shveedish massage-ey?_ Hernee skernee du...like theesh?_ _bork! bork! bork!_" Between the leg grabbing and tickling, Jake had Bella in fits of laughter.

"Jake! you're killing me with the bad Swedish Chef, ok?" She decided to tease him right back. No teenage boy, not even a teenage werewolf, would know what certain words meant, right?

"My prescription says I need a _vulva_ massage!"

Jake spun around, his face poking up between her knees, his eyes misty and playful.

"A _what_-va massage? A _Volvo-massage?"_

There, she had him stumped, for once. This was even more fun than keeping the special ingredient to her stew a secret from him. Bella crossed her arms in front of her chest authoritatively.

"It's a very special massage -- it has to be done by a specialist." Let Mr. Smart-guy figure_ that_ mystery out.

"Hmm..." Jake slid into his patented mad-scientist mode. "Let's see now, of course, the dreaded _Volvo-_massage. And you are a very peculiar girl, you need to see a _specialist_...well, now, where is that _Volvo _troubling you...._here?"_

With that, he bit down through the leg of her jeans on a sensitive spot just below her knee, sending sparks running up her thigh and directly between her legs.

"No, silly, _vulva_!" She was only playing with him, but the heat between her thighs was undeniable. The ache in her sex that had been brewing all day intensified, moisture springing between her lips at his roguish nipping.

"_Here?" _

Another bite, this one just above her knee, her legs spaying more widely as Jake inched forward, flashy his big toothy smile. Not too hard, but hard enough..._oh god, his shoulders were so broad and warm under her thighs..._

"_No, not there..."_

Bella's heart was pounding, her answer coming out in a breathy whisper. Jake crouched in front of her, pulling her knees up with his shoulders.

"_Here, maybe....?" _

She could feel the warmth of his breath against her crotch, eyes twinkling up at her from beneath his thick lashes. He pressed his teeth gently into her jeans at the top of her thigh, just below her panty line. Her hands flitted to his face, nervously stroking his hair just behind his ears.

_He knows...exactly what "vulva" means..._

Bella stared back at him as his eyes went dark and dreamy at her touch. _He knew all along..._

Bella swallowed hard as she took in his dusky, patient, loving expression, her sex clenching urgently within the confines of her weight of so many nights of want, of loneliness, the crushing force of Edward's many rejections, bore down on her.

_Jake, I need you to touch me, I need to feel good again..._

Jacob's eyes were full of encouragement. As though reading her thoughts, his smile deepened.

"Miss Swan, I think I need to continue this examination further," he murmured softly, his sparkling eyes never leaving hers. "Would the patient be so kind as to... remove her jeans?"

Bella closed her mouth, which had been hanging open for several moments, panting in wonderment. She nodded. Quickly unbuttoning her jeans with trembling hands, she felt Jake's fingertips slide under the waistband behind her. He slid the fabric down just past her knees, neatly tucking the pants behind his head, effectively trapping his face at the juncture of her thighs.

Any momentary embarrassment she might have felt was swallowed whole by her overwhelming surprise and pleasure at his obvious enthusiasm. Jake had always been so sweet and gentle with her, she was instantly glad he was the first to see her so exposed.

_Not Edward._

Kneeling, Jacob was face to face with her panties, warm and moist, just as he had always imagined in his nightly forays to the forest. Her feminine scent was unbearably intoxicating, a werewolf delicacy hiding just behind one thin, pretty layer of cotton. The shaft of his cock throbbed between his legs, his rapidly growing erection carefully concealed by the edge of the couch.

_So soft..._

His cheeks lightly grazed the insides of her thighs as he slowly pressed his lips to her panties, his nose gently brushing the fabric where he imagined the most sensitive flesh of her sex would be. He inhaled, the fragrance and warmth of her shooting through his body, his balls tightening with need.

Bella's head fell back, her hands stroking his hair, pressing her palms against the back of his head to communicate her assent to his advances. The room was quiet but for her shallow breaths as Jake nuzzled her panties with his face, his full lips pursing to kiss her skin along the line of the elastic. Soft, soft hair between her legs brushed his lips ...she was so beautiful...so warm, smelled so good...

His cock stood rigid, aching, his shorts tight between his thighs.

_Must taste...._

Before he could stop himself, the tip of his tongue escaped the confines of his lips and ran along the line of her panties, feeling her sex swell and her hands clench his scalp in response. He groaned quietly, sliding his tongue under the fabric to stroke her labia, concealed just inside the filmy barrier.

Bella gasped at the extraordinary sensation, his tongue so hot, and probing so close to where she wanted him to venture. She gripped his hair tightly, instinctively spreading her thighs wider to accommodate him. Nothing she had ever read about oral stimulation had prepared her for the intensity of Jake's touch, or the sublime sensation of his confident hands caressing her hips and backside as he cradled her in his arms.

Jake looked up at her, eyes half-lidded, seeking approval and finding it in her flushed face. Bella's eyes were riveted to his, body tense, her sex heated and throbbing with excitement to see what he would do next.

He cleared his throat.

"I'll need to continue my examination without..." Jacob blushed, his face handsome and hopeful.

"....my panties," Bella finished for him, helpfully sliding the offending article down her thighs and up over his head to join her jeans. She bent forward in so doing, her face brushing his, lingering to leave a soft kiss on his cheek. His skin was blazing hot, his breathing rough. She drew her lips against his cheekbone, ending nose-to-nose with him, the hot draft of his breath massaging her face.

"_Bella..."_

Her gaze met his. In that perfect moment, she saw it all in his eyes: his youth, his strength, his complete adoration of her, and the power behind his open regard triggered a deep, radiating warmth in her chest. He loved her, was in love with her. With that realization blossoming in her mind and heart, she leaned into his lips, and he kissed her.

_Jake..._

Eyes locked, their mouths met, warm and open, his lips and tongue swirling against hers, arms tightening around her waist, drawing her up, spreading her legs, kissing until they both were dizzy and breathless. Jake smiled, eyes full of joy; Bella smiled back at him. Here he was, everything she had ever wanted, sitting in her living room with her, where he had been waiting for her all along. In that glorious moment, an unspoken understanding passed between them, and Bella realized that her life was going to be very, very different from this point forward.

She was..._falling in love with Jacob Black._

Jacob looked down for a moment, then met her eyes again bashfully.

"If you're ever going to get well again, Miss Swan, I suggest you save distracting the doctor from his duties until later." His wide smile, so incandescent, caused the glow in her heart to fill her senses, until she felt it right down to her toes.

Bella grinned at him, laughter brimming from her lips.

"Yes, doctor." She settled back on the cushions, her fingertips lightly stroking his face, his lips, his thick, dark hair. He dazzled her once more with a loving, teasing smile and slid downwards to lick soothingly at the pink indentations his teeth had left on her thigh through her jeans.

Jacob's head was spinning. Bella had kissed him! The marvelous sensation was still upon his lips, the look in her eyes as she did so seeming to ensure that this first would not -- perhaps never would -- be the last. His heart blazed in his chest as the desire to please her welled anew, driving him to the enticing center of her pleasure that was mere inches from his face.

If he had just consumed the meal that would remain forever indelled upon his salivary glands, Jacob was certain that the prospect of Bella's exquisite taste upon his tongue would make a most fitting dessert.

He breathed her in, settling her body in his arms, his lips gently touching the soft dark hair that adorned her folds. Sweetness...he could feel her trembling, her skin warm and damp against his cheeks. Her sex was so swollen and wet, it cried out for him to pleasure her everywhere at once. Pressing his lips against her bare sex, he moaned with happiness, his tongue sliding into her steaming warmth and finding her clitoris, circling it gently, probing and memorizing each and every sound and movement she made as he did so. Her skin was so delicate, soft and wet against his mouth.

_Her taste...! Her scent...! More, I need more.... _

As much as he longed to see her face, he could not bear to pull away to look into her eyes even for a moment, but explored her body with his tongue and lips as the gorgeous heat closed over him, her thighs tightening and hips twitching against his neck as he found her most sensitive, responsive nerves.

_Bella, sweet Bella.._.

He drew her clitoris firmly between his lips, tongue-tip lightly flicking the smooth orb until her hips bucked and twisted around his head, then firmly stroking the slope of her clit-hood repeatedly with the broad, flat expanse of his tongue. His caresses dipped lower, deeper, teasing the tight entrance with long, slow sweeps that made her cry out his name, her hands wildly petting and clenching at his hair.

He looked up at last, dazed, her wetness glistening on his face.

"Please Jake, don't stop! So good, Jake, it feels so good...."

_Yes..._

He ducked again swiftly, hungry now, chest swelling with confidence. Her body was leading him to every perfect, special place, offering him permission to bring her the deepest form of shared ecstasy.

_He was pleasuring her..! She was urging him, actually begging him, to go on...! _

He was mindless now, blissed beyond seeing. Whatever _Cullen_ had failed to do for Bella, he, _Jacob,_ would succeed in doing. Bella's body spoke to him in a voice both sultry and innocent, and he responded greedily, overjoyed and eager to follow its command.

Jake's mouth vibrated against her sex as groan after delighted groan rumbled through his chest. Her body was slick with perspiration as he firmly stroked and suckled her flesh, his long tongue arching along the trajectory of her sex, returning again and again to massage her swelling clitoris.

_She's so perfect, this feels so perfect..._

Bella was close, so close to coming in Jacob's mouth. The shock of having her best friend licking and touching her so intimately was eclipsed by the deft manner in which he seemed to anticipate her desires, stroking the very best places, then teasing and massaging another deliciously tender spot, returning again to that perfect place, that perfect rhythm, driving her further into oblivion with sensations that she had never known existed.

_This...! oh...! Jacob...!_

Her head tossed right and left in quick succession on the soft cushions of the couch, her delirious cries of surprise and deepening arousal pealing through the room and echoing off the walls.

Jacob could taste her body's mounting passion as it flowed between her legs, her sensual fragrance filling his lungs, dousing his senses with lust, engorging his shaft with raw desire. The head of his cock jerked, length rigid and thick, balls tight and swollen between his legs, the pulse of his manhood reverberating Bella's every reaction to his attentions. Her clitoris burned and throbbed at his touch, his mouth sucking it tenderly, forcefully between his lips; his tongue caressing her, holding her high, letting her soar.

_LoveyouBellaloveyou..._

Suddenly, he felt it -- the heat of her climax -- peak and rise within her, the visceral sensation resonating deep in his loins, his cock throbbing and bursting as his sensitive tongue continued its strong, swift, careful circuit against her clitoris.

_Oh god, yes...YES...!_

Her orgasm crashed over him, enveloping his senses and igniting his own release, her pleasure running through his body as surely as if she had caused it with her own deliberate touch. Jacob sobbed, wave upon wave of pleasure singing in his veins, his cock exploding as she came against his tongue. Her body's fire burned within him, Bella's cries ringing melodiously in his ears, his mouth aflame, caressing her sex to the rhythm of her flowing rapture as she undulated, screaming, in his arms.

"_Jake! ...oh god, Jake...!"_

His cock shot fire again and again, bathing itself with its effluences, his shorts warm and damp as his own thick expulsions ran down his straining shaft, pooling between his thighs.

_~...heaven...~_

Dear god, he loved her...he loved his Bella so much. Holding her tightly, face pressed against her moist, quivering folds, this was the most satisfying moment yet of his young, strange and wonderful life.

_My sweet, sweet girl..._

.......................................................................

**A/N: "Well, a bit of dinner never hurt/But guess who is gonna be dessert..." (Barbara Streisand, **_**Funny Girl**_**) Native Tongue, Part 2 is in the works! 'Til then, tell me how this went for you...**

**And after you leave me a review, go check out some fun works-in-progress, both of which meet my high standards for sexuality, wolfy sensuality, raw funny stuff and romance: **_**Your Body is a Wonderland**_** by hilja (Jacob/Leah), and **_**Electric**_** by Reijilie (Paul/Leah). You will be highly entertained, and be sure to tell'em I sent ya. ; ))**


	12. Chapter 10 Two Virgins Outtake Part 1

**Title: 1001 Jacobian Nights**

**Author: Amanda Wilder**

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. Original situations and dialogue property of the author. Unauthorized duplication prohibited.**

**Pairing: Jacob/Bella**

**Story: AU; MA**

**A/N So hello there! And happy holidays... I decided to go ahead and post a couple of outtake chapters to thank the many, many wonderful readers who have messaged me with encouragement over the last nine months. I'm still single by the way. These next two chapters go out to the rest of you who have an empty bed for Christmas and a stocking full of chocolate to make up for it - and who still haven't given up hope.**

**This outtake scene takes place a little over two years after Edward has fled to Africa. Jacob is now 18, Bella 20. Jacob has been platonically acting as Bella's Medicine Man, but things might take a more intimate turn:**

Chapter 10 Outtake Part 1 - Two Virgins

Jacob looked up from his habitual place between Bella's parted thighs, her eyes glazed and shining down at him. The evening had drawn on later and later, and neither seemed inclined for it to end.

Edward would return from his safari the following day, flying in from Johannesburg on the Cullens' private jet. It seemed that whatever had driven him so far from Bella had been sated in the exotic tastes to be had from the wild game there, and whatever hold she still had on him was calling him to her side once again.

Bella was healthy now, and Jacob had somewhere in his mind realized that had he drawn out the process of her healing a little longer, had he not been so successful in bringing her back to the happy, vibrant creature she now undeniably was, they might still be on schedule to meet for her "treatments" a few weeks - or months - longer.

But that was all just wishful thinking, of course. Bella had recovered, the Elders had accepted the much-needed endowment for the reservation clinic that Carlisle had offered in return for Jacob's services, and life would return to some semblance of normal. If he was lucky, and if he gave her up as graciously as he had originally agreed to do, he still held some small hope that Edward would allow Bella to come to La Push to see him from time to time.

_As friends._

And so Jacob had thrown all the longing, all the fear, all the desperate love he felt for her into their last evening together; his hands, mouth and body communicating all that his words could not.

"Bella," he breathed.

"Mmmm... Jacob." She slid her hands to his face, drawing her fingers under his jaw. "Come closer."

He knew what she wanted, and despite the heavy weight of his swollen erection between his legs, he slid his bare body up against hers, the tip of his cock carefully poised a few inches from the heat of her sex. The soft skin of her thighs brushed against his ribcage as he moved forward to lie on top of her, sliding his arms under her shoulders to gently cradle her head.

_Bella. So beautiful. _This was one of Jacob's most favorite ways in which to contemplate her face: freshly pleasured, skin flushed, eyes glowing, the planes of her cheeks misty with joy.

His lips were warm and tender as they met hers, moist and a bit swollen from their activities. The warmth of her body radiated into him as he held her gaze, her tongue a sensuous stream of strokes and caresses that caused them both to moan at the stolen intimacy.

And despite all of Jacob's usual preparations, the furiously-applied multiple releases that preceded each of their meetings so he could better focus on her needs, his cock was hard.

_Unbearably hard._

The pressure of his weight along the shaft, driving into the sheets beneath him, was only exacerbating the problem. As was her nakedness... _and_ _proximity._

The evening waned. If, in the last few hours, he had drawn up enough courage to ask her for what he wanted, the time was now - or, perhaps, never.

"Bella," he began, his lips barely separated from hers, "I want to ask a favor..."

She smiled, a bit drunkenly, still dazed from his earlier successes at bringing her to orgasm. "Yeah Jake...? You know you can ask me anything..."

He shifted between her thighs, his heart pounding.

"Bella, I wondered if I could have a little...you know, a little...reward..."

Her eyes were slightly more focused on him now, taking on a playful shade of curiosity.

"What _kind_ of reward?"

Her tone was so light; it gave him the little encouragement he needed to actually speak the words on his mind.

"I ... was wondering ... if maybe..." Suddenly bashful, he brought his forehead to her shoulder, bright, half-lidded eyes glinting at hers under the fall of thick, dark lashes.

" 'If maybe...?' " she whispered back at him, still smiling and faintly hoping that it wasn't something that would bring this charmed evening finally to a close.

He shut his eyes. He could do this.

"If... I could... put myself... inside you." There, he had said it. "Just the head, just the tip, not the whole way, but just enough so I could feel..." He could hear the pleading tone of his own voice, the pounding of his heart, urgently wishing that even if the answer was no, then perhaps she would not be angry with him.

Bella had brushed the lips of her sex against the head of his cock many times in the last few weeks, even sliding her searing wetness along his length, bringing herself - and, incidentally, him - to orgasm on several occasions this way. But never inside. Never enough to quench his well-concealed desire to know what it was to be..._inside her._

_And if he had to give her back to that undead maniac Cullen, then please god please, let it be with the memory of her body, closing over even just the head of his manhood, so he might experience first-hand and cherish that precious sensation for the rest of his life..._

"I want to feel that too," she said simply, her body relaxing under his as though to grant him passage that very moment.

"Really?" He had to control his voice, his excitement.

She bit her lip, grinned, and nodded. His body had brought her nothing but peace and pleasure, and had she known he wanted her in this way, she might have tilted her hand and slid the head of his cock - and more - inside her much sooner. Somehow it was so much better that he had asked, that this act was for him as much as for her: finally some way to acknowledge that theirs was a mutual experience that extended beyond the parameters of her healing. Something they could share pleasure in, on equal footing.

"Yes, I want that, Jake." She ran her hands through his long, dark hair, warm and damp with exertion. "I want you closer. I want to feel you _in me_."

He kissed her then, passionately, his mouth closing down on hers and possessing it, sucking on her tongue and moaning his relief. She returned his kiss with equal ardor, spreading her legs farther and pressing her sex up against his tight abdominals, relishing the rippled muscles as they slid along the sensitive hood of her clitoris.

"Now?" he asked, breathlessly.

"Now."

His cock burned and roared as he slid the seeping tip against her lips, feeling all the heat and wetness of her open body, pressing further, the head of his cock slowly enclosed in the gorgeous tightness that was Bella Swan.

The burning pressure of his cockhead between her lips was exquisite, the rapturous sensation holding the promise of yet another orgasm. She gazed at his face, youthful awe and amazement beaming down at her, his expressive eyes brimming with a mixture of ecstasy, boyish happiness, and lust.

"Oh god, Bella..."

His penetration of her had pulled her lips tight, and she could feel the tiny tremors of release begin to tease her as more and more of her sex caught on fire.

"Jake, what do I feel like...? does it feel good...?"

"Bella, it's so perfect, you're so perfect...it feels like..._home._" And then he smiled, his perfectly white teeth gleaming against his dark skin.

"How do I feel..._to you?" _His voice smoldered over her.

The sweet tightness was almost enough to send her over the edge.

"So good, Jake, so really... ohhh..." Her eyes rolled into her head as though pulled by unseen strings, then returned to stare at him beseechingly. "Can you go in...a bit more...? It doesn't feel like you're... all the way inside."

His unconscious concern for not hurting her had resulted in the rigid head of his cock lolling against her tautness, half-in, half-out.

He gaped at her. "Ok..."

His body hammered with pleasure as he pressed his cockhead against the tight wedge of her lips. And then, he felt it...the satisfying rush of heat as her sex encircled the glans of his penis, seating him firmly just inside her virgin portal. Like a bright flame, it occurred to him that he was having his very first sexual experience...and that it was with Bella, the woman he loved, naked and panting beneath him...with his body inside her.

_Inside Bella Swan. My love, my girl, my._..

It was all he could do not throw himself against her, hips meeting the insides of her thighs, cock fully stretching and filling her...

All at once, her body began to undulate underneath him, bright cries of pleasure echoing through the room. Her engorged nipples felt as big as thumbs against him as they grazed his quivering chest. _She was coming! _Jacob sobbed, the tight massage of her body around the tip of his member more powerful, more feminine, than any sensation he had ever rendered himself with his own hand.

He pulled out, spraying cum, gripping himself tightly to prevent the flying fluids bursting from his cock from getting on her, on the bed, on himself. And in so doing, thoroughly succeeding at all three.

"_Bella!"_

"Oh god, Jacob!" Bella had her hands at her sex, pressing hard.

"Are you all right? Did I hurt-"

"So amazing...so incredible...that was so ... _beautiful!"_ Her body continued to twist and buck on the bed for several moments. He watched her enraptured face as she moved, speechless and entranced.

Then moved as if to blot the explosion of seed with a towel he grabbed from the floor.

"No, it's all right, it's all right..." She beckoned to him to stop. "Just c'mere, ok? Come over here with me..." She sat up and pulled at his straining arm, pulling him back on top of her, kissing him as the warm velvet of his skin pressed against her. "Jacob..." She stared at him with adoration, and he at her; the towel, the mess, forgotten.

"You are the most amazing man I've ever met." Bella luxuriated in the feel of his warm body draped across hers.

Jacob's heart thrilled at her words. He was _her most amazing man_.

"And that was the most crazy intense thing I've ever felt!" She pushed her head back and laughed, little tears at the corners of her eyes. "You are so special, so wonderful...I love you, Jake. I love you, I love_ us."_

"_I love you too, Bella, love you so much, with everything, my whole heart..."_ His words were spoken around her lips, her tongue, as they continued to kiss and murmur to each other as the moment of their unavoidable separation ticked ever closer.

And then, after the passage of an indeterminable lapse of time, as if pulled by hidden cords, he began to move against her again, the moisture from their previous encounter still damply apparent along the length of her sex.

There were no words as they gazed at each other, her legs drifting upward to encircle his hips in silent acquiescence.

His body moved with greater surety now, his mouth dipping to massage her swollen nipples with his warm lips and tongue as his cock slid into her molten tightness, feeling the pull of her hymen along his shaft.

"Oh, god, yes, Jacob, just like that, right there, oh god..." He rocked lightly back and forth, savoring every gorgeous sensation, his cockhead brushing her g-spot.

"Please Jacob, please! Don't stop..." Jacob groaned, feeling her pulsing begin and the most intimate part of himself at the center of it, her body clutching and releasing in a crescendo of grips and swirls as her walls clenched around his aching shaft. Breathing hard and holding his own growing arousal in abeyance, he suckled at her tender breasts, her throat, and then her lips as she shivered and quaked beneath him.

"More... oh god!... I love you, I want more of you, Jake, all of it..." Bella was in an ecstatic delirium: the being who was her lover, her healer, her best friend, filling her with his energy, his rigid desire, his essence, and feeling it take even further root inside her soul, entwining with her own.

"Make love to me, Jacob...! I'm yours, all yours, please take me...take me...make me yours..."

Her fingers clawed his thick, glistening shoulders as he slid his cock deeper inside her, feeling her hymen tear and release its hold on him. She gasped, then moaned.

..._If he came inside her now, there would be nothing to prevent his seed, those thousands of tiny sperm, from racing to points deep inside her, uniting with her waiting ovum, and taking up permanent residence in her womb..._

He could feel himself swell to full tumescence, the hot flood of her body consuming and desiring him, his balls tightening and aching to release every drop of his semen inside her.

"God, Bella, so good..._oh god I love you...!_" He continued to rock himself inside her perfect heaven, her body clinging to him, her moans and cries filling his ears with their sweet siren song.

_This is where I was always meant to be, always want to be... _His heart blazed in his chest as she continued to whisper her love and desire to him.

His cock felt so stiff it could crack. He stilled his movements, waiting to catch her eye until he spoke.

"Bella, I think we need to stop now. I should probably pull out before I..."

"No Jacob, I want you to _cum_ inside me, I want to feel it, all of you, everything..."

"But..." _god, could he even say that name...? _"Edward might..."

"_Jacob_," she said again, with more force. "There is no 'Edward,' there is only you now, you and me. From now on...always..."

A strong jolt of amazement and exultation ran through him as she moved her hips around him to punctuate her statement.

"Please...Jacob, I'm yours..."

_His. The burning ran through him in a frenzy, eyes wild with heat and purpose._

He resumed his movements, thrusting into her with greater force, feeling her body ignite around him as his pulsating thickness began its own dance of elation inside her.

"Yes, god, yes...! Harder, Jacob, _anhh!"_ He lurched forward, his cock taking her now...

..._to be his girl, his woman..._

_...she had chosen him, she was allowing him to mark her and stretch her to fit his enormous girth, to be the instrument of his pleasure, to take his seed inside her... _

And in witness, before his fogging eyes, Bella was finding complete, profoundly pleasurable, surrender.

.._.please, god, Jacob... my everything..._

Her mouth opened to scream - sounds, sighs, shrieks - as the searing crash of her orgasm locked onto him, his own violent eruptions mushrooming from the head of his cock, each burning shot of his fluids deep inside her, tightly wedged against her womb. Each cry, each liquid pulse drove his muscled form forward into the convulsing heat of her sex, their mouths and bodies locked together in fevered communion.

_...so deep inside her..._

Bella could feel the warm pool of his ejaculate coat her insides, dimly imagining that the more of Jacob she could take inside of her, the safer and more loved she would feel. As the minutes passed and they continued to kiss, she was pleasantly gratified that he made no move to withdraw himself from her sex.

_...love you so much..._

They lay quietly together, simply content to stroke each others' skin with shaking hands, sharing breath, wide eyes expressing the depth of shared promises.

He helped her stand, eventually needing to relieve herself, as he wrapped her in a warm bathrobe. They stumbled together to the bathroom, and Jacob could not help but notice the long white lines of his love for her, streaming down the insides of her thighs.

His chest swelled, committing to memory the sight of this evidence that she truly belonged to him now, and he to her - in all ways - Edward be damned.

**Part Two of this outtake goes up tomorrow. Until then, pop me a review and go check out the amazing audreyii-fic and her Jacob and Bella Drabbles. Her writing is not only marvelous, but it contains all the lovely romantic and character-driven nuances that real fiction should. Enjoy, and tell her I sent ya.**


	13. Chapter 11 Two Virgins Outtake Part 2

**Title: 1001 Jacobian Nights**

**Author: Amanda Wilder**

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. Original situations and dialogue property of the author. Unauthorized duplication prohibited.**

**Pairing: Jacob/Bella**

**Story: AU; MA**

1001 Jacobian Nights - Outtake Part 2 - Two Virgins

**A/N: This is for all of you who ever wondered what it would be like to wake up with Jacob Black. This picks up where the previous chapter left off.**

Awakening quite sore and well into the afternoon, the freshly deflowered and still naked Bella had fed on orange juice and a banana, while Jacob tended to her aches and pains with warm, well-oiled hands and solicitude, love shining in his eyes.

Whatever metaphorical barriers had separated them before last evening were now nothing but hazy memories of an arrangement that did not, in the morning light, seem ever to have existed.

When at last she parted her thighs to him, she was delighted to find that he had placed an icecube in his mouth to soothe her reddened, swollen folds, alternating between his tongue, cooled and well-lubricated from the ice, and the marvelous chill of the frozen lozenge as he gently and lazily slid it into her tender vulva, sucking it out again with his warm lips.

After several such applications, and the soft and determined swirl of his tongue against her clitoris, she had orgasmed in his mouth as he suckled and stroked her sensitive flesh.

_I love my life...love being alive... _she thought, dreamily.

The bed shifted under her as Jacob moved to hover over her, the warm skin of his chest brushing her nipples. Her hands made their way into his smooth, shiny hair.

"You, Jacob Black," Bella said, their eyes meeting, "are completely wonderful." She caressed the back of his head for a moment with her fingers, causing him to shut his eyes and smile in pleasure. "And," she continued, pausing for dramatic effect, "I love you."

He pressed down against her at that moment, his lips meeting hers. His natural scent, now mixed with traces of hers, was marvelously soporific, and Bella allowed her eyes to close to greater appreciate the effect. She could not help but give a little murmur of dissatisfaction as the bed moved again as Jacob stood.

She watched him questioningly, her eyes slowly taking in his nakedness, his erection, finally focusing on his face, glowing with amusement.

"A man has needs, Bella," he said jauntily, reaching to stroke her face and give her a quick peck on the lips. "I'll be right back, I promise."

Moments passed as her eyes drifted closed once more, feeling him return and press his backside against the bed, his hip brushing her cheek as he settled into a seated position next to her. Coffee. The aroma filtered down to her, mixing with his manscent, and she rolled to nestle her head against the warm hollow between his hip and the firm muscle of his ass. Snuggling closer, she ran her hand up and down his thigh, marveling at the slope of his quads under her palm.

_...he's so strong and...beautiful..._

She felt his free hand light on her head, stroking her hair, a warm finger brushing the outline of her earlobe.

_...mmm...happy..._

Sliding her hand deeper between his thighs, her knuckles grazed the underside of his balls, feeling the tufts of his pubic hair against the back of her hand. She heard him exhale sharply as he shifted his legs wider to accommodate her explorations.

Her fingers stroked the taut sac of his testes, then drifted upwards to enclose his engorged manhood in her hand. Velvety and hot to the touch, the outer skin of his cock slid along the steel-hard rigidity pulsing underneath as she dragged her clenched fingers along his length.

_...I could do this forever...with him..._

As though in a trance, she released his cock and climbed up on his naked lap, bypassing his steaming mug and smiling dreamily at him. In a moment, the coffee cup was on the floor, and his arms slid around her hips as she knelt, each knee brushing against his sides as she opened her thighs to stroke his cock with her sex. Kissing him deeply, she warmed her lips against his aching shaft, and with one move, reached a hand between them to slide his swollen cock inside her again.

Soreness beget pleasure as his moans mixed with hers in the twining of their lips and tongues. His hips rolled gently under hers as he pressed deeper and deeper inside her, the head of his cock rubbing against the most sensitive places inside her sex. She could feel his pulsing as it vibrated through her pelvis.

"Bella... god... I want... _I need to cum inside you_..." Jacob pulled back from their kiss to gaze at her, eyes heavy-lidded, perspiration gleaming along his handsome face.

"_I want you to," _Bella whispered. The feel of his burning seed bursting inside of her the previous evening had been glorious, each jet of his release a massage against her deepest walls and cervix.

His hands slid to her bottom, gripping her soft curves, pulling her upward and off of him to place her breast against his open mouth. Sucking lightly, his tongue massaged her hardened teat as his cockhead teased her entrance. Each pull of his lips on her nipple sent a hot line of pleasure through her belly to her clitoris, as though his mouth were in two places at once.

Bella writhed in his strong arms, her body aching with want. And then, as if in answer to her unspoken desire, he pushed himself deep inside her again, his cock even more swollen as he spread the lips of her sex wide with each rapid thrust. She watched, fascinated and aroused, as he allowed himself to surrender to the pleasure her body gave him.

_...oh god...so good..._

His head tilted abruptly backwards, calling her name as she felt him coat her depths with his white-hot fluids.

"_So hot, Bella... so good..." _He sobbed as he shot his sperm inside her, each jolt of heat emptying his balls, his cock on fire.

_...so good, my Bella... so fucking good..._

The scent of his exertion, a manly musk that enclosed her senses as he held himself inside her, caused Bella to sink her head against his shoulder, breathing deeply of him.

"_Do you feel that... what's mine, inside you...?"_

He felt her nod against his neck as his heaving chest slowly returned to the normal, steady rhythm of his unison, they both inhaled and sighed - laughing lightly, together - bodies linked and trembling, their conjoined fluids seeping out and down between their thighs.

When Bella finally raised her head to peer at him through the curtain of her hair, his face wore a look of dazed amazement. Making love in the light of day, where no shadow could deceive his urgent need for her with fantasy, Bella had rendered her Jacob completely and utterly thunderstruck.

_...she's really mine, all mine..._

As the day wore on, she could still feel his body inside her, much like the phantom rocking one senses for hours after debarking from a boat at sea. Sitting still, descending stairs, walking in the woods arm-in-arm, fully and completely clothed, it was as though his body was still pushing and thrusting in and out of her. The sensation occupied most of her consciousness, and it was enough to lean her head on his shoulder, to feel his hands run through her hair and down her back and chest...words simply did not come, and did not seem at all to matter.

Edward's return from Africa, and anything else that was waiting for her beyond the safety of La Push, faded into the distance like a team of heavy stormclouds, churning their way across the sky to a distant horizon without releasing a single drop of rain.

After a shower, an enormous meal, and a walk through the trees behind Jacob's house to stretch their legs, the pair found their way back to bed for a deep and well-deserved rest. Tossing a clean sheet haphazardly over the mattress, Jacob had gathered Bella in his arms, spooning her naked form against his, one arm draped over her side, hand cupping her breast; the other, tucked under her head like a pillow.

Bella was asleep a moment later, breathing in the warm scent of Jacob, who lay relaxed, nose buried in her hair, behind her.

The room was already quite dark when she woke again, Jacob's breath erratic against the bare skin of her shoulder. She shifted, and realized with a start that his manhood was rigid between her thighs, pumping back and forth in short, desperate jerks.

"Bella...," Jacob murmured, his voice husky and low.

She moved her hand to stroke his tensing thigh. He stilled his movements, panting.

"Mmmm..." She stretched her limbs, squeezing her thighs tightly together around his cock as she felt all the stiffness in her spine release.

Jacob groaned.

"Hi there..." she said softly, her hand reaching between her legs to caress the head of his cock as it ballooned out from between the lips of her sex.

"Bella... I'm sorry... I just... I can't get enough of you..." He groaned again as she continued to palm his cockhead, his precum balming the tight, sensitive skin. He pumped his hips forcefully against her bottom, riding against her touch.

_...need...inside..._

A rumbling growl ran through his chest, its vibration causing a deep rush of arousal within her. She squeezed her thighs around him again, her lips liquid-soft and dripping against the thick rod of his shaft thrusting tightly against her.

_...oh god, yes, right there..._

Cupping his cockhead, she pulled his cock against her, the swollen ridge of his glans rubbing a gorgeous sensation into her clitoris.

"Oh god.. Jake..."

Realization hit him, and he burned against her furiously, ramming her body with as much force and speed as he dared.

"ohgodjake...jakejakejake..." She screamed, her entire body convulsing in his arms, clit pressed and lips spread against his shaft, her orgasm pealing shriek after shriek from her throat.

_...need...INSIDE..._

Heart pounding, she offered no resistance as his arm snaked under her thigh, lifting her knee to her chin, his burning cock plunging inside her.

"oh god.. oh jaaaake..."

..._jesus..._

He was mindless now, crashing his cock into her from behind, the burning tightness of her sex gripping at him like an unseen vise. Sobbing, he cockfucked her, each deep thrust crushing him with its heat, the brilliant blade of his shaft swelling so hard he felt it might break off inside her.

_...FUCK...Bella..._

She was screaming again, her walls crashing in on him as she came against his cock, its force dragging him deeper inside her with each desperate plunge. Eyes wild, he snarled as his arms wound around her, hands clutching at her shoulders to force her body down onto his as he ripped into her with abandon.

He came inside her with the force of an animal, his teeth sinking into her shoulder as the savage eruption emptied him of all thought, all meaning, all reserve.

Blissed beyond conscious thought, she lay limp and compliant in his arms as he howled and convulsed, the quiet inside his storm.

She dozed again, his body slowly softening inside her now very tender sex. Jacob remained wide awake, breathing hard and staring at the mark he had left on her skin, aware only that his body had taken what it wanted from both of them, and the beast inside him was sated, at least for the moment.

His lips pressed against her neck, kissing her softly, his mind spinning.

The insidious thought that had occurred to him more than once in the last twenty-four hours wound its way around his heart anew, stalking his newly-acquired peace of mind. A question so powerful, so intimately a part of him that he had swallowed it back from his lips on each occasion, fearful and yet fevered to know what the answer might be. Lying there next to her, he held his breath against it to no avail, finally allowing the words to escape his tightly clenched throat, leaving the sounds to hang in the air between them as he let them slip into being.

"Bella...you aren't _on anything_, are you?"

Mind misty with sleep and pleasure, she was silent for a moment, trying to decipher the meaning of his question. _umm...on...what...?_

Then, at last, it came to her: Jacob was asking if she was using protection. _Against conception. Against pregnancy...the Pill. _She closed her eyes then, lips tightening, all at once chilled by the realization she had no idea what his reaction to her answer might be.

"_No...no, I'm not..." _she whispered.

Jacob endured a tangled surge of emotions as they roared through his body - elation, power, pride foremost among them - before he grinned into the space between her shoulder blades, and lightly kissed her skin.

His arms closed around her to hug her firmly to him, his voice strong and soft in her ears.

"_Good."_

**Author's Note: This story may devolve into drabbles, or thematically-related one-shots, or I might have time to continue the story in a linear fashion. Bear with me. And have a terrific holidays; may you find Jacob Black or some reasonable facsimile under your tree tomorrow ; )) **


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